


Dragons, Myths, and Legends

by KailynBail



Series: Modern or Alternate Universe of the Dragon Age [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Modern Thedas, cameos from other characters - Freeform, secrets upon secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 13:43:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 124,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11761125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KailynBail/pseuds/KailynBail
Summary: In a world where magic is real and the Chantry reigns... the balance between Templar and Mage has always been held delicately, if at all... and the storm that brewed in Kirkwall was a long time coming. At its center was more than a simple Ferelden apostate... it was a life, a love, and a betrayal.Varric loved his life, he loved his city... sure, he would have liked more, but who wouldn't? He never would have guessed that his attention would snap to a human, not in a million years. Even if... she was the strangest one he'd ever met. She called to him like none ever had... would he answer the call? Or sequester his heart like he had done for so many years?Marian wasn't looking for love... hell, she wasn't even looking for true friends. Apostates knew better. She'd never do to her what her father did to her Mother. So meeting Varric? Not on her list of to-do's. Like so many other things in her life, it happened anyway. Will she finally stop running or will she run too far this time?[Currently unfinished, the chapters are a bit longer than I'm used to posting but there you have it. It's at a good stopping point at the moment as well.][There are explicit chapters but most are just mature.]





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This follows most of the same story line as the game. I kept key phrases and dialogue because hey, if it ain't broke, right?

Introduction to the modern world of Thedas (as read by Morrigan)

In this world of dragons, myths, and legends… there are a few things you should know. In a world divided by borders and beliefs, there exists a simple truth; magic is real… and the Chantry rules all of the South. From the near impassable Hunterthorn mountains all the way to the White Spire- the Divine reigns. Oh, there are Empresses, Emperors, Kings, Viscounts, Princes, and Queens but make no mistake, the Chantry holds all the cards. For they have one ace in their pocket that will seemingly keep their rule forever secure… the Templar Order. I suppose there is also that little bit about the Maker and his bride… but for the most part it is the fear of mages that keep people bowing to the will of the Chantry. _Magic is meant to serve man, never to rule over him._ That’s their slogan after all. It’s printed on all of the Templar’s SUVs, you’d never miss it. The Templars are another thing all together, designed to be an enforcement agency against rebel mages and guardians for those in the circle; they can do this only because they supplement their natural prowess with a dangerous additive. Lyrium. The thing from which all magic is derived. To mages, lyrium is but another part of themselves, flowing through their very veins. To others, it is poison. But to Templars, for a time, it gives them the power to go into a fight with a mage… and come out victorious. But it comes with a price… and for many, that price is well worth it for they do the _Maker’s_ work. Mages can be found in every race upon this planet save the dwarves. The elves and humans both have magical lines that can be traced back to the beginning of their time but the dwarves are resistant to magic in all its forms. And it is from them that the world’s Lyrium is mined and supplied. The dwarves, known only by how naturally muscular they are, their slightly shorter stature, and sometimes pale eyes- are the only beings that can tolerate the volatile substance. The dwarves hail from within the mountains and the deep roads. Once, their mighty kingdoms reigning beneath the surface… now… they have fallen to ruin, all except one… Orzammar, where King Bahlin sits on the throne. The elves, so noted by their natural beauty, pointed ears, and various other talents. Far from mankind do some still roam, but most remain, living in slavery or squalor. The wanderers are proud and fierce, calling themselves the Dalish and care nothing for the outside world, save for a few. The story of the elves is not a kind one in this world; they were once a mighty people before the appearance of man… but like so many things of their history, all of that… was lost. It is man who rules Thedas now, growing in numbers and increased power. Many advances have been made to make life easier… indoor plumbing, the invention of the hydrogen fuel cell car… though the Carta quickly cornered the market on replacement cells, thus forcing many to go without… grand cities built high above the ground, all the comforts one could hope for… if one had the coin. For those who did not… it was the slums or the farmlands. These distant lands long out of eyesight of the major cities, where small towns still held close their traditions. Where apostates could hide… and grow… and learn their elemental magic. But with the sweets… come the sours. So far from the Chantry’s strong arm, in the rural areas where the local Mothers and few Templars would often turn a blind eye to apostates who did no harm… they all were left… unprotected. When the darkspawn overtook Ostagar… and King Cailan’s forces were slain along with himself… the despicable diseased beings turned their attentions north. Carrying a vicious virus that distorted their bodies and enslaved their minds, they killed without mercy or thought save their master’s bidding. And the Archdemon had its sights on all of Thedas. The horde of tainted creatures had to first get out of the Kocari Wilds… and eventually they’d reach Lothering. The small farming village that was never more than a supply station at the beginning of the Imperial Highway… the village that housed some fifty families… only three working trucks and one fuel cell… was the village that had no warning save for a handful of soldiers that managed to flee Ostagar...


	2. Chapter 2

Marian took a deep breath as she straightened, bracing an elbow on the garden ho end, squinting at the bright sun as it hung overhead… baking the earth beneath it. The soil was dry and hard.. it had been fighting her all day and as such, she’d made little progress. “Damn this heat…” The temperature had been rising steadily over the past month… and the rains had yet to come. All of Lothering was feeling the worry… and wondered over the cause, for none could remember a time when it had been this warm in the south. Marian’s long brown hair, their family’s color, was tied up with some leather to keep it off her neck, though many strands had come free and were now plastered to her skin with the sweat. Her necklace was starting to chafe, the thin cord of silverite held a talon like claw that, in the right light, ebbed and flowed with magic.

            Bethany glanced over to her older sister. Marian was wearing a dirt stained once-was-white button up shirt, sleeves rolled up and the collar left open, only half tucked into her brown jeans. She smirked as she glanced down at her sister’s boots, noting that they’d have to find some more friction tape soon or Mari’s left boot was going to start talking to people… again. “Too bad we can’t make it rain.” She murmured as she clawed at the dry dirt with the trowel. Her matching necklace swinging with the action, flashing in the sun. Gifts from their father.

            “Maybe if there were about a hundred more of us we might be able to muster up a drop.” Marian said with a smirk, looking down at Bethany. Her sweet younger sister in her faded flower print dress and Mari’s ‘old’ boots that were actually in better shape than the ones she had on now, which was why she had _actually_ given her the _new_ pair and not the _old_ pair though no one really knew that… except for Mother. But Mother never gave away her secrets.

            Bethany gave a bit of a laugh, tucking some of her familiar brown hair behind an ear as she clawed at a dirt clot. Her hair wasn’t as long as her sister’s, but it was close, only reaching the middle of her back as opposed to her lower… but she chose to wear it down, even with the heat. “Oh yeah… such powerful witches we…” Her thought was interrupted as a yell sounded off in the distance and they both looked in that direction.

            Marian turned and shielded her eyes with her hand, the wide leather bracelet shifting on her wrist- the runes burned into it catching the light and flashing with unspent power. She squinted out from under her hand as she looked South. “What…” She squinted harder, seeing someone in the field but too far away to make them out.

            Bethany stood up slowly, the hot wind whipping around her knee length dress and hair before slamming into her. She startled and tensed, taking in a sharp breath. “Carver!” And she was off, long bare legs carrying her as she sprinted into the wheat field, the only thing they’d been able to grow this year… smiling ear to ear.

            Marian had looked over to her sister and then turned sharply towards the figure in the distance. She didn’t question Bethany… if it was Carver, she would know. Thus was the way with twins. She just lit out after her, letting the cursed tool fall to the barren ground. She felt as though she could fly as she caught up to Bethany and eclipsed her. “Carver!!!” Marian ran at a steady pace until Carver came into focus… then she ran as fast as she could.

            Carver’s lungs were burning, his muscles were trying to shut down on him, but he was _going_ to make it. His combat boots dug into the ground as he jogged, having long since lost the ability to run even though he willed his body to do just that. His broad sword sheath straps were chaffing, his uniform sleeves having been torn and ripped in the battle. His sword? That, he was still holding, his grip like the iron it was made from. He’d lost his helm at some point, he didn’t even know when. His tactical belt likewise was somewhere in the wilds to the South with his body armor vest… the wound on his temple had stopped bleeding some time ago. His eyes fixed ahead of him, he was in a dark place, his mind clouded. _Run… Home… Beth… Mari… Mom… Run… Home… Beth… Mari… Mom…_ repeat. That was all that was going through his mind at this point. He didn’t even hear his name being called… he didn’t even know if he was close to home. Until he felt hands on him, at first.. he fought, a battle cry as he swung his sword wide. Which was what he had done earlier when a tree branch had grabbed at his frayed shirt when he’d broken into the field from the tree line.

            Marian reached him first, grabbing hold of his shoulder, but then he lashed out. “Carver!” She yelled again as she leapt back just as Bethany came up. “Hey!”

            Bethany slid to a stop before _she_ called to him. “Carver!”

            Carver just felt hands and acted. But then… he heard Bethany. He blinked, his mud and blood caked eyelids feeling heavy as he focused on her. He flinched slightly and then looked to Marian before he felt his insides tremble. “Beth?... Mari?... Thank the Maker.” He lowered his sword quickly, he didn’t have the strength to lift it anymore. Flinching again when he felt arms around his neck, suddenly finding himself the center of a Carver sandwich, both of his sisters giving him a hug that had been months in the waiting. He dropped his sword to return it, taking a ragged breath as he swayed on his feet. He was _almost_ relieved when he jerked away from them. “We have to go, we have to run!” He said suddenly as he took Beth’s hand and started aiming for their wooden farmhouse in the distance, the house his father built. The whitewashed home the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in that moment, but he knew it offered no true safety.

            Bethany quickened her pace to keep up. “What? Why?”

            Marian likewise followed, Carver’s sword in her hand. “What happened?”

            Carver shook his head as he just reached beside him and took Marian’s free hand and walked faster. “We have to leave. We have to get Mother and go. Now.”

            “Why?!” Bethany felt fear sinking into her from Carver’s grip. “Carver, tell us.”

            Carver didn’t want to say, he didn’t want to remember. But they needed to understand. “We failed, Beth… the horde is coming. They’ll be here by nightfall.”

            Marian’s features hardened as she quickened her pace. She might not have been able to go with Carver but she was just as much of a fighter as he was. “We have to warn everyone.”

            “It’s two miles to town.” Carver said shaking his head. “We don’t have ti…” He didn’t get to finish the sentence as they heard bells ringing in the distance… and screams.

            All three of them startled and turned towards town, as if they could see anything. “We’re too late.” Bethany said quietly, her pulse quickening.

            “Hurry.” Carver nearly growled as he charged towards the house, all three at a dead run. The mabari that had been lounging on the porch jumped up, ears perked and too intelligent eyes locked onto them. He did not bark or jump around Carver… the seriousness in the way the trio moved was not lost on him. He made sure to be out of the way. Luckily the door was open, thanks to the heat… or Carver would have kicked it in. “Mom!? Mom, where are you?!”

            Bethany ran to the hall closet and tore out their worn (old) packs, throwing two of them behind her. “I’ll get food!” She didn’t slow as she went into the kitchen and stuffed anything that would fit into her pack.

            Marian handed Carver his sword before bending low and picking up her pack as she ran. “I’ll get clothes and blankets, Carver, weapons and the tent!”

            Leandra came out of her bedroom with nothing but relief as she rushed for Carver. “My baby boy!!” But the relief quickly left her face as she saw her daughters rushing around. “What’s going on?”

            Carver sheathed his broad sword and picked up his pack. “Yeah!” He answered his sister but then his Mother was coming towards him. “Mother…” He reached for her and pulled her near for a quick hug. “The horde’s coming… get your boots on, we have to go now. Right now!” He almost yelled at her but held back at the last second.

            Leandra wanted to hold onto her son longer but his words nearly stopped her heart. “Maker…” She breathed with a tremble as she gathered her peasant skirt up and turned, rushing to her room to get her boots on.

            Marian ran upstairs into her room and tore the threadbare blanket off her bed and stuffed it into her bag before throwing the pack on the bed. She rushed to her closet and ripped her jacket out of it, pulling it on- ignoring the heat, it’d take up too much room in her bag. She grabbed the pack and ran back out but slid to a stop, nearly falling. She nearly ran into the dresser, yanked a drawer almost all the way out and added underwear, one shirt, and another pair of jeans to the pack. Finally, she snatched a picture off the cracked mirror… a picture of her father, Malcolm… that got stuffed into her back pocket. She ran into Bethany and then Carver’s rooms, doing the same there except in Carver’s room she grabbed him a change of clothes for now. Her heels did slide down a few stairs when she came back down and tossed the extra clothes at Carver with a short whistle, which had Kable trotting into the house to stand just inside, he watched… and waited.

            Carver had rushed over to the closet beneath the stairs, threw open the door and pulled out their daggers, stuffing them in the bag… it was alright though, they were all sheathed. He stuffed a whetstone into his pack and stuffed an arm through a strap before he pulled a box off the shelf, flipping it open and cursing out loud at what he saw. “Shit.” He took a frowning breath before closing it back up and stuffing it in the pack anyway, the few vials of lyrium rattling within. The last thing he did was kneel down and pry up the loose floorboard and pull out the old cigar box, flipped it open and grabbed the bag of coin they kept there, it was stuffed into the pack. Damned if they were going to leave it behind, it had taken years to save that much. He paused only briefly at the few photos that were inside the box… he grabbed them too.  He turned just in time to catch the extra clothes. He gave a nod of thanks to Mari before he dropped everything that he was holding and started unbuckling his sheath, the sword went on the wall just as Bethany came out of the kitchen, taking her coat from Mari and pulling it on.

            “Before we go.” Bethany said sharply as she stepped over to Carver and settled her hand over his temple, a gentle glow seeping out from beneath as she healed the wound. She frowned at him before she withdrew her hand.

            Carver stilled and winced at the healing but he dutifully nodded. “Thanks Beth.” He changed quickly, peeling off his torn uniform and climbing into a pair of his worn in black jeans and pulling a gray tee on. His father’s old bomber jacket came next, brown leather that was so worn in it felt like butter. He jammed his feet back into his boots and laced them up, looking up as their Mother came out of her room, pulling her wool traveling coat on, she’d also put on a belt and had her own pack on her shoulders, who knew what was inside of it. “Alright, let’s go.”

            Leandra frowned deeply as she pulled her hair back and tied it with itself. “Are you…” She stopped talking when Marian held her hand up to her in a silence motion.

            Marian had her head tilted to the side, listening. “Do you hear that?”

            Bethany and Carver both looked around with a confused look but Leandra was the one who spoke. “I don’t hear anything…”

            Marian felt panic dump into her veins. “Exactly… no bells. We have to leave _right_ now.” She shouldered her pack quickly and reached into the closet, pulling her staff from the wall hook and giving it a pivot and shake motion, the once ten inch long ash wood, carved and stained in an intricate design that culminated at the end to form a hawk’s head, became a six foot long staff in about a second. She tossed a nine inch bar of dark oak gilded at the end with amethyst crystals set into the metal to Bethany, who did the same as Marian had.

            Leandra felt herself start to tremble with fear but she followed her eldest child out the backdoor, feeling as though she was going to cry as she ran… knowing she’d never see the house her husband built for her again. Carver snatched the tent out of the closet before he brought up the rear, nearly tripping when he looked back at the house even as he was still strapping his sword back on. Marian was in front as they ran through their back field, Bethany beside her… and Carver behind her. All four of them felt the heartbreak of leaving the house… their father’s touch was everywhere. But the horde cared not for sentimentalities.

            Marian ran out the open backdoor at a run, but not a dead one… she knew their Mother could not keep up at that pace. She yelled over her shoulder for her mabari. “Kable!!” She… didn’t look back. She didn’t want to see her father’s home behind her. She didn’t want to feel the sorrow. Not yet, not right now. It took no time before she heard paw-falls beside her, her mabari didn’t need to be told anything twice. He had a seriousness about his face when she glanced down at him… he knew. This was the time for him to be the war-hound he truly was. On the way, Carver doled out the daggers, so that everyone would have at least some form of weapon. Even though Leandra tried to deny it, she took it just to appease her son. She detested violence.

            They ran for more than an hour before the first band of darkspawn fell upon them. And fall they did. Marian shouted out orders to Bethany to stay with their Mother while Carver leapt into the fray. Kable dove in, attacking with a viciousness that the family almost forgot he had. Marian’s pyromancer magic was indispensible as she incinerated the enemy. Bethany’s spiritual magic provided protection and healing as the battle progressed. When the last blighted creature fell, Carver urged them to continue.

            “Wait!” Bethany challenged. “Where are we going?”

            Carver looked at her blankly for a moment.

            “We can’t just wander, aimlessly…” She continued with her hands gesturing around her.

            Marian walked up, settling her staff into the ground beside her as she caught her breath, feeling rather drained… it’d been a very long time since she’d used her magic to that extent. “As long as we wander aimlessly _away_ from the horde, I don’t care.”

            Leandra had been utterly terrified the entire time. Most of her fear had come from the realization that her son had been fighting these creatures for a lot longer than just today. She had drawn her dagger and held it as skillfully as she could… which was to say, pointy end away from her. Luckily, she hadn’t had to use it. Now with the discussion, she sheathed the dagger on her worn leather belt and smoothed her skirt down. “We can go to Kirkwall.” She said simply.

            Marian and Bethany both visibly cringed. But it was Marian to speak. “Well… that wouldn’t be my _first_ choice.”

            “There are _a lot_ of Templars in Kirkwall, Mother.” Bethany added, her tone turning to a _you should know better_.

            Leandra sighed heavily as her lips formed a thin line. “I know that.” She shook her head as she looked around them. “But we still have family there… and an estate. It’s better than being homeless.” She added on at the last, her specialty… guilt.

            Marian and Bethany both exchanged looks that said they agreed… they didn’t like this idea at all. Carver spoke in their stead…

            “Alright, so we make for Highever and get a crossing…” Carver said with a nod. “We have our heading… now let’s move before more of those things finds us.”

            The trio continued on their way… but they didn’t get far before they ran into another contingency of darkspawn. But these darkspawn were not alone… they had found another quarry. That didn’t stop Marian, Carver, or Kable from diving in.

            Aveline was beyond winded, desperate for strength as she swung her sword wide, throwing her forearm up as one of the beast’s swords came down on her shield. In other worlds, it would be called a gauntlet and there would have been one on both arms. But in this one, it was referred to as a shield and was just as strong, and was worn only on one arm. The runes etched on the underside created a nearly indestructible piece of armor that could be used as a weapon in a pinch. The ruins also allowed the bearer to form an actual shield by enchantment, invisible to the naked eye but just as effective when needed. Easier to carry. Aveline looked left and then right, her fire colored hair whipping around even for the braid and headband. She leapt a fraction of a moment too late as she witnessed her husband taking a blade to his shoulder.

            Wesley’s templar uniform was battle worn and bloodied from the day, torn in more than a few places. His tactical gear had held strong and his body armor had saved him more than once in the day. His gleaming templar badge, gleamed no more for the darkspawn blood that covered it. His helmet had been cracked earlier and he’d tossed it for it was of no use to him anymore. His almost too short trimmed hair was drenched with sweat. He too had tried to deflect the blow with his shield, the Templar stamped gauntlet flashing as it went through the air. But he had been too slow, exhaustion taking its toll. The blade went deep and suddenly, he lost all feeling in his sword arm. His yell surprised even him. The shield came in handy as he punched the blighted thing square in the face, driving it back with a sickening crunch. Then the world went wonky on him and he staggered back, tripped and fell.

            Aveline rushed to him, hoisting him back to his feet, she stared into those nothing-special-to-anyone-but-her blue eyes. “They will not have you.” Her voice trembled for the fear she felt in that moment. Outnumbered and with no hope, she yelled back at the creatures. “You hear me! You’ll not have him!” She swung wildly and just when she thought… _This is it. At least we go out together… and swinging_. She heard a battle cry and saw a man in farmers clothes dive in, broad sword swinging. A fireball chasing after him to light up another creature. The help gave her renewed purpose and she lunged when she could, stabbing where she was able, all while still helping Wesley hold his footing.

            Wesley kept his shield up to guard Aveline’s back. Her words… broke his heart, in a good way. That kind of hurt that love can bring. He was _so_ lucky to have her. For a woman like her to love him. Her strong heart and fighting spirit… he didn’t doubt her words for a single moment, even when there was no hope. But the Maker sent them rescue and he witnessed the destruction that magic could bring on the battlefield. When it was all said and done… he struggled to keep his own footing, aiming to stand on his own. For the warrior man had been no templar… which meant, the mages that accompanied him… were not of the circle.

            “Stop squirming Wesley, you’ll make it worse…” Aveline tried to keep Wesley still. She’d very easily come to the same conclusion that he had but in her mind, it didn’t matter. Right now? It didn’t matter at all. But he didn’t listen, stubborn man that he was.

            Marian walked the few paces to Carver with Kable at her side, she gave him a quick visual once over to check for injuries as Bethany and Leandra trotted up. Then, and only then, did Marian truly look at the two people they had saved. Her features hardened immediately and the grip on her staff likewise went firm. Carver stiffened… and Bethany gave a cynical sort of snort. Leandra, however… just looked worried.

            Wesley brushed Aveline’s hand off as he let his useless arm dangle at his side. “Apostate…” He shifted his low browed gaze between Bethany and Marian both, his tone still holding the authoritative tenor regardless of his injuries. “Keep your distance.”

            Bethany shook her head with that sort of look that said _you’ve got to be freaking kidding me_. “Well the Maker has a sense of humor… darkspawn and now a Templar. I thought you lot abandoned the outlying villages.”

            Wesley had little patience for the younger one’s attitude. “The spawn are clear in their intent. But a mage is always unknown. The order dictates…”

            Aveline shook her head with a disapproving expression. “Wesley…” Her voice came out almost pleading.

            Wesley looked back at her with a shake of his head. “These women are apostates.” He almost sneered the term before looking back at the two women with staffs so blatantly displayed. He took a few steps towards them, his brow growing ever lower as he reached with his uninjured hand to his tactical belt. “The order dictates…”

            The tension heightened in that moment. Both Bethany and Marian’s pupils flashed in alarm, not fear… just alarm but it was Carver who stepped in front of Wesley, swaying to the side and looking slightly down at the man, eye to eye and shifting with obvious aggressive intention. The warning couldn’t have been clearer.

            Aveline was the voice of reason. “Dear… they saved us. The Maker understands.”

            Leandra had reached up and palmed her Andrastian talisman and held it tightly… so many years they’d feared a moment such as this. Ever since… her heart threatened to shatter at even the memory of her late husband’s abduction and subsequent death. But she shook her head sharply. “Please, Ser Knight…” She stepped forward and settled a hand on Carver’s forearm, pulling at him gently. “Your companion speaks the truth. If not for my children… we would have all been lost this day.”

            Wesley glanced to Aveline and frowned slightly, indecision playing on his features when another aging voice caught his attention. In truth, he hadn’t even noticed the woman. He looked and saw an elder stepping through the trio. Her words had him frown again and then look at each of them, now he saw the resemblances. But she… nor the boy… were mages. He took a steadying breath and gave a nod to Aveline. “Of course. Sometimes… our path is unclear and we must trust in the wisdom of others.”

            Leandra breathed a sigh of relief and looked it. “Thank you, Ser Knight.” Carver backed away but kept a watchful eye on the Templar. Marian looked at Bethany and Bethany looked at her, both giving subtle shakes of their heads. They didn’t trust that Templar as far as they could throw them… and neither of them were that physically strong. Given the chance, he’d ensnare them as fast as he could say _hopscotch_.

            Aveline likewise relaxed some. “I am Aveline Vallen. This is my husband, Ser Wesley. We can hate each other later.”

            Marian gave a begrudging nod before narrowing her eyes on this Ser Wesley. “What are you doing all the way out here anyway?”

            Wesley returned the look. “I was on business for the order… heading to Denerim when I heard about Ostagar. I…” He looked to Aveline with a mixed expression. “Had to turn south.”

            Aveline reached for his uninjured hand and held it tightly. “Luck.. and bad judgment brought us here before the horde cut us off.”

            “What do you mean cut you off?” Carver asked with a sinking sense of dread.

            Aveline looked back at Carver with a suspicion of her own. “You were at Ostagar, weren’t you? I recognize you…”

            Carver gave a nod, sheathing his sword and crossing his arms over his chest. “Third company.” He made it clear he’d speak no further on that matter. “Now answer me…” The look his mother sent him had him tack on. “Please”.

            Aveline didn’t miss that look either. “North is cut off. We barely escaped the horde.”

            Carver cursed low under his breath. “Then we’re trapped. We just came from the south… and there’s shit to the West.”

            “Carver! Language!” Leandra nearly yipped. She shook her head at him with a disapproving look.

            Carver just rolled his eyes at her and turned away from them, hands on his hips as he hung his head. Kable trotted over to him and leaned against his thigh.

            Marian sighed, shook her head, and raised her brows with a shrug. “Then… Gwaren it is. Go east, young man… go east.” She muttered at the last as she held her wrist up and looked at the wide leather band, tapped it twice and watched on as the runes illuminated and a needle appeared above them, spun around once and then pointed definitively in an eastward direction. “Well, let’s go before more darkspawn decide to join the party.” She looked ahead to where the needle pointed, giving her hand and wrist a shake, silencing the runic spell before walking on.

            Bethany and Leandra followed with Carver and Kable not far behind. It was Marian who glanced behind her and raised a brow, gave a short whistle and called out. “Well come on you two!”


	3. Chapter 3

Wesley tolerated Aveline’s fussing as she tried to bandage his shoulder while he watched Carver. The only name they’d been given thus far. But he didn’t expect more… for obvious reasons. He watched the woman with apparent distrust as she cast her directionality spell and then walked off. Aveline looked up at him with a worry creased brow and just when he was about to reassure her, he heard that same woman call out to them. Aveline was the one who took the first step. “Come on, Wesley.” She said quietly. And so he did… they had a better chance in a group anyway. At least with the apostates, he could police them. No telling what they might do if left unchecked.

            For hours they moved, sometimes walking, but mostly jogging at a steady pace, making their way east towards the Southron foothills. It was in these foothills that they found a tucked away place and made camp. Carver rolled the canvas tent out with a groan, crawling around while Leandra began staking it in place. Marian had gone off in search of a young tree or some kind of branch that would serve as the pole. Aveline was working on Wesley’s bandage, murmuring for him to stop his squirming. It was then that Bethany walked over, clearing her throat as she knelt down beside them.

            “How bad is it?” She said gently.

            Wesley had just hissed at Aveline before stiffening when the younger woman came up. “It’s fine.” He said curtly. Aveline just shook her head.

            “The blade went deep.” Aveline said in his stead, giving him a _what?_ look when he gave her a sharp one.

            Bethany frowned slightly as she settled her hands on her knees. “I could take a look…”

            Aveline was poised to speak but Wesley cut her off. “I said it was fine.”

            Bethany shook her head at him. “Better you bleed to death?”

            Aveline looked at him with a _mmhmm, see_ look. “Wesley, please…” Her worry eclipsed any concern she might have had.

            Wesley looked between the two women with a somewhat shocked look. He was being outnumbered by a strange apostate and his own wife? What had the world come to! He sighed loudly and wore the look of a man who’d been defeated and _loathed_ it. “Fine.”

            Aveline nodded and removed the bandage she’d fashioned, nothing but her torn sleeve, her uniform not much of one anymore. “It won’t stop bleeding.” She said quietly, worry creasing her brow even deeper.

            Bethany inched closer and reached but pulled back when Wesley flinched. She looked at him carefully. “My name is Bethany… and I mean you no harm.” She said it so gently, Wesley looked at her with even more suspicion but he dutifully nodded and she continued. She ripped his uniform a bit more to see the wound. “The blade hit this bunch of nerves here… that’s why his arm won’t work and it won’t stop bleeding. The body’s getting no information that it’s even been injured.” She tilted her head and looked at the wound carefully. “I can close the wound and stop the bleeding, but that’s all I can do. It’s gone too long without healing for me to promise anything more.”

            Wesley just nodded and looked away from them. Bethany settled a hand over the wound and closed her eyes. The space between their skin where contact was made began to glow, softly at first… a gentle blue and then more vibrant until it was near blinding white. Wesley tensed and grimaced, his features contorting with the pain. Once it was done he was panting. Bethany ran her hand over the now scarred skin as she swayed slightly making a shushing sound. Wesley found that the pain ebbed almost instantly. He looked at her sharply with wide eyes. “You’re… you’re a spirit healer?”

            Bethany simply nodded to him before she got up and started walking away, her steps unsteady. Leandra rushed to her quickly, wrapping an arm around her and brushing some of her hair away from her face. “Oh Beth… it’s alright sweet girl..” She cooed to her and led her over to a log to sit.

            Aveline watched on and took a ragged breath as she witnessed the healing. She’d never seen magic this close up before… she was somewhat mesmerized. The magic she just witnessed was… almost beautiful. She marveled over Wesley’s now scarred but closed skin, looking after Bethany. She glanced back at Wesley. “What’s a spirit healer?”

            Wesley shook his head slightly, still feeling… off. But he blamed it on exhaustion. Aveline drew his attention. “They’re fairly rare… they pull their ability to heal from a different place. They heal not just the body but they can heal the mind. They can also be very dangerous… what they can give, they can also take away.”

            Meanwhile, Marian had returned with a polearm and entered the tent, setting it up the rest of the way with Carver’s help. She walked out brushing her hands together. “Alright, tent’s up. Come on, let’s get some dinner made.” Leandra helped Bethany to her feet and walked into the open flap of the tent, disappearing within. Carver hadn’t come back out. Kable trotted in without a thought. Aveline and Wesley both looked on with a certain amount of shock. If not for the flap, they wouldn’t have known the tent was there at all.

            Aveline helped Wesley to his feet, he was still a bit unsteady. Wesley limped slightly as they drew near to Marian, who was holding the flap open. “What kind of magic is this?”

            Marian looked at him oddly for a moment. “What… oh.” She looked up and over at the tent, frowning slightly before looking back at Wesley. “It was my Father’s… a gift from the Wardens. I have no idea how it’s made but it works… now come on.”

            Both Aveline and Wesley just blinked at the explanation. “Was your father a Warden or…” Aveline asked, she was curious. This tent was.. unlike anything she’d ever heard of.

            Marian shook her head with a bit of a laugh. “Maker, no. I don’t know why they gave it to him but here it is. Now… come on.” She dipped slightly as she motioned for them to hurry up.

            Wesley and Aveline walked passed Marian and was even more surprised to find the tent much larger than they thought, oh it wasn’t another enchantment, it was just hard to determine how big the tent was. Carver had already claimed a spot to sleep, laying on his side, using a pack as a pillow, his sword behind him. Bethany was sitting on his other side, using his abdomen as a brace, leaning against him. Leandra was pulling food stuffs out of one pack while Marian made way around a small fire she’d started in a dirt hole in the ground and sat down beside Bethany, brushing some of her hair from her face and tucking it behind an ear.

            “Alright, let’s see…” Leandra pulled out a loaf of soda bread and peeked into the bag further. “We have… bread… and…” She frowned slightly as she reached in and made a face, pulling out a somewhat squished and unwrapped quarter shank of lamb that had been roasted the day before. “Some.. lamb…”

            Bethany gave a bit of a laugh. “I just grabbed whatever I could…”

            Aveline and Wesley took a seat on the ground, Wesley groaning slightly. Aveline was the one to speak. “Anything will be fine, Mistress.”

            Leandra gave a good natured smile to Bethany before Aveline caught her attention. “Oh, please, call me Leandra.” She began tearing the bread into pieces and gave one to each of them, setting hers in her lap. “And these… are my children… obviously.” The lamb came next, the dagger came in handy for _that_ at least. She introduced each of her children when she delivered the lamb. “Marian… Bethany… and Carver.” Once everyone had plenty of lamb, Kable got the rest. “And this is Kable.” She gestured to the mabari as he gnawed on the shank bone, the meat didn’t stand a chance against his appetite.

            Aveline and Wesley both took theirs with nods of thanks. Wesley was about to take a bite when he was stilled by words that came from Leandra…

            “Maker… bless this food that we are about to receive so that it may nourish our bodies and give us strength. Keep our will strong for the trials ahead and thank you for all that you have already bestowed upon us. Blessed is the Maker and his holy bride, Andraste.” Leandra said at the last before reaching for her rough looking sandwich. Her children doing the same, she didn’t look to their guests.

            Wesley was startled by the prayer… not many gave a blessing to food, especially in the rural communities and his hunger had overdriven any thought of a prayer. But the prayer had been said and he bowed his head, once done he ate with a fever. Aveline likewise did the same. Once the food was done, Aveline spoke in his stead. “Thank you… all of you. For sharing your food and shelter with us.”

            Carver frowned slightly at them and just shrugged. “It’s a small matter.” His rumbling tone came forth as Bethany laid down beside him and he threw an arm over her in obvious comfort. Not a moment later, his threadbare blanket was fluttered out over them.

Marian offered one to Leandra and then took the few steps to Wesley and Aveline. “Here.” Her voice took on a kinder tone.

Aveline looked around, noticing there wasn’t another blanket to be had, and then up to the woman. “Oh, no… we’re fine.”

Marian just gave her a single raised brow look. “It’s fine. Here. You two should get some rest. I’ve got first watch anyway.”

Aveline took the blanket and nodded slightly. “Thank you again.” Wesley felt… different, being here with these apostates who so openly looked after him and his wife. He watched on as Marian went to the opening of the tent and slipped out, Kable followed with his lamb bone. Aveline laid down and he helped cover her up, shushing her to rest as he settled behind her but he propped his head up on his elbow and looked over at the other apostate in the tent. He got the feeling of being watched and glanced over to Leandra, who was likewise settled similar to himself. He kept his voice low. “We are in your debt, Mistress. I did not look to find such hospitality from apostates.”

Leandra gave a gentle smirk and shook her head at him. “My children’s gifts have nothing to do with it. It is because we know what it is like to be without, that we give so freely.”

Wesley looked back at the low burning fire before thinking further, especially on the apostate who was now outside… almost alone. “Perhaps I should stand guard as well.”

Leandra was highly amused by that. “My eldest wields a power far greater than any sword. Trust that she will keep us safe. And Kable is with her.” She settled down herself and felt sleep come easily for how exhausted she was.

Wesley supposed she said as such to bring him comfort… but it did not. At some point he must have drifted off because the next thing he knew, he was being woken up by his wife and they broke camp. Breakfast was an apple each from the pack of food. Kable went without, turning his nose up at the fruit.

They were making good time… or so they thought. Half way through the Bracilian Pass… the Hawke family’s world changed forever. They’d run into some more darkspawn and though Wesley wasn’t useless, he wasn’t up to his previous ability. His sword arm was a true loss, but he fought as best as he could. They’d come up to a plateau as Marian trotted ahead to get a better look out over the valley below, she could see the coast in the distance. “I can see the coast!” She called over her shoulder, Carver coming up beside her to look too. Aveline was just cresting the top with Wesley, Bethany and Leandra beside them. All four of them breathed a sigh of somewhat relief but it was short lived...

The Ogre seemingly came out of nowhere, the only warning they got was the ground shaking beneath their feet. It burst through the trees with a terrible roar, it swung its mighty arm and sent Wesley flying, Aveline managed to roll out of the way but then it charged. Carver was charging towards it and Marian was running to get in range when it turned on Bethany and Leandra. Leandra screamed in horror but Bethany rolled her staff and sent up a prayer, sending a spell into the Ogre’s face. It did little to deter the enraged creature.

Marian’s entire body locked up as she watched the Ogre pick Bethany up as if she were not but a doll and dig its horribly diseased claws into her abdomen, swing her around and then throw her away as if she were trash. Marian made eye contact with Bethany as she was being shook in the beast’s hold. Bethany was dead when she hit the ground.

Carver’s eyes widened as he witnessed the death of his twin sister. His world seemed to shift entirely… a piece of his mind fractured and he stalled out, his feet seemed to glue themselves to the earth, his sword falling from his hold as his knees buckled. His mouth was open wide but nothing came out as terror filled his expression.

Leandra’s screams echoed around them as she watched on, once the Ogre threw her daughter she rushed to her, seemingly ignoring the creature. Her eyes were focused on Bethany’s lifeless body. She fell as soon as she reached her, gathering her up in her arms. Blood was everywhere… and her daughter wasn’t breathing. Her eyes open but empty. Leandra screamed, eyes squeezed shut as her pain consumed her.

Aveline held tight to Wesley as he coughed, she was trying to get him to his feet when they both saw. “No!!” Aveline couldn’t help it, she cried out when Bethany was taken. Snatched from life so quickly. The Ogre spun around and roared at the world. Aveline raised her sword and yelled back. But she didn’t get the chance to attack, Wesley and her both jumped when the ground shook and a crack raced towards the Ogre, lava spewed upwards from right beneath the creature and as if the magma had arms of its own, it reached up and took hold of the blighted being and pulled it downwards… where it howled and screamed, melting as it perished in the most unimaginable pain. Aveline and Wesley both followed the crack in the earth back to where it came from.

Marian’s staff was dug into the ground, her foot braced before her and her pupils lit vibrantly as if there were flames within them. Her yell had been drowned out by the earth splitting. She was panting heavily as the spell came to its conclusion. She was still winded when Carver managed to move.

Carver got to his feet, leaving his sword where it was and stumbled over to his Mother and Bethany, falling to his knees beside her. “Beth…” His voice barely audible as he took her limp hand and lifted it to his brow. His Mother hadn’t stopped rocking her, but she had stopped screaming.

Leandra’s breath wouldn’t slow nor could she stop rocking her daughter. “My sweet girl… shhhh… my sweet girl…” She kept repeating as she smoothed Bethany’s hair back, slick from the blood on Leandra’s hands from where she had first pulled Bethany to her. She looked to Carver and tried to still herself but the tears wouldn’t stop. She did reach with her other hand though and take the back of his neck. “Shhh.. wake up Bethany… the battle’s over… we’re fine”

Aveline got Wesley to his feet, even though he was still nearly gawking at Marian. Aveline made way over to Leandra and knelt down, setting a hand on the woman’s back gently. “I’m sorry Mistress… Your daughter is gone.” They couldn’t stay here, more darkspawn would soon be upon them.

“No! These things will _not_ take Bethany.” Leandra shot back, her voice thick with her sorrow.

Wesley drifted closer but not too close, he didn’t want to intrude on their pain. Marian had gotten closer, but it was as if she didn’t trust herself to get too close. “Bethany gave herself to save us…”

            Leandra pinned Marian with a surprisingly fierce look. “I don’t want a hero! I want my daughter! How could you let her charge off like that?! Your little sister! My baby girl!”

            Aveline saw the hurt look on Marian’s face. But she also saw how Marian just looked away and how her features hardened. It was Carver who spoke. “Mother… we can’t stay here. We have to go…”

            Leandra looked at Carver and visibly softened, she nodded and set Bethany down, settling her hands over her chest gently, kissing her brow as she let her tears fall freely. “My little girl… my sweet little girl… You will always be in my heart…”

            Carver stood up almost too quickly, looking down at Bethany and taking a ragged breath. He walked away and retrieved his sword, passing Marian… he didn’t even look at her.

            Marian swayed slightly as Carver passed her. Wesley frowned but took a few limped steps towards Leandra. “Allow me to commend your daughter’s soul to the Maker, Mistress.”

            Leandra nodded as she stood up and halfheartedly wiped her hands on her skirt. She listened to Wesley say the right while Aveline glanced to Carver, who just steadied himself as he picked up his sword. And then to Marian who’s eyes were fixed on Bethany’s form… shining with unspent magic.

            Wesley had just finished when they all heard the telling screeches of darkspawn. “Dammit.” Marian cursed as she turned. Carver likewise got ready, as did Aveline and Wesley. “They’ve caught up with us…”

            Carver spun and felt his pulse quicken to a dangerous degree. “There’s no end to them!”

            “This is it then.” Aveline said grimly though she still spun around, sword at the ready.

            Just then… something happened that even they couldn’t believe. The deafening roar of a dragon sounded above, causing them all to cover their ears… even if it meant dropping weapons to do so. The mighty beast swooped down (because in this case, swooping was _not_ bad) and laid waste to the immediate darkspawn threat before landing in front of them. But… then it was no dragon at all, but an aged woman. She stood tall and looked at them with cold, calculating eyes. “Well, well, well… what have we here..”

            They were all in shock but it was Marian who stepped forward to speak, especially since Wesley’s fatigue suddenly stabbed at him and he staggered before falling. Aveline rushed to his side. “Wesley!”

            “I’m alright.” Wesley lied… he knew what was wrong but didn’t have the heart to say it.

            The obvious witch spoke again. “It used to be we never got visitors to the wilds, but now they arrive in hordes.”

            “Hnn. Well… it’s such lovely country side.” Marian couldn’t help her smart mouth sometimes. She eyed this newcomer warily. “Nice trick, by the way… the whole dragon thing.”

            The strange woman raised a brow. “Who said _it_ was a trick, perhaps I am truly a dragon and this is the trick.” She gave her own smirk in return. Her armor shifting as she paced just slightly, still trying to figure this one out. Her long white hair swept up into interesting style to mimic a dragon’s horns. “If so, count yourself lucky. The smell of burning darkspawn does nothing for the appetite.” She turned away from the apparent speaker of the group. “If you wish to flee the darkspawn, you should know you are heading in the wrong direction.”

            Carver walked up beside Marian and looked on untrustingly at this obvious witch. “Hey, wait. You can’t just leave us here.” His tone was harder than it normally would have been. But he’d had a rough day thus far. The worst, in fact.

            “Can I not?” The woman turned with that brow still raised. “I spotted a most curious sight…” She walked back towards them, moving closer. “A mighty ogre, vanquished! Who could perform such a feat?” She looked intently at Marian. “But now, my curiosity is sated and you are safe… for the moment. Is that not enough?” She shifted her attention to the boy.

            Marian gave a low brow look at Carver, which he ignored. “You could… show me that trick of yours… that looks useful.” And it could _keep_ them safe.

            The woman gave a hearty laugh at this one. “If only a clever tongue was all one needed…” She sobered and pinned Marian with a serious stare. “Tell me clever child… how do you intend to outrun the blight?”

            Carver watched as the witch drew closer and took that moment to speak. He didn’t want her getting the impression that Marian was the only one running the show, for some reason… it bothered him now. “We need to get to Kirkwall.. in the Free Marches.” He ignored another look from Marian.

            “Kirkwall? My… but that is quite the voyage you plan.” The woman said with no amount of amusement spared. “Your king will not miss you then?”

            “Lothering is gone… and Fereldan may soon follow. We don’t have a choice in the matter.” Marian spoke before Carver could.

            “I see.” The woman looked at Marian a little closer, enough to make Carver nervous. “Hurtled into the chaos you fight, and the world will shake before you.” Her tone went soothsayer before she turned away from them to think. “Is it fate or chance? I can never decide…” She murmured to herself. She came to a decision and returned to them. “It appears fortune smiles on us both today. I may be able to help you yet.”

            Marian narrowed her eyes at the woman. “What’s the catch… there must be one.” She’d decided to ignore the woman’s ramblings about her personally.

            The woman laughed again. “There’s always a catch. Life is a catch! I suggest you catch it while you can!”

            Carver shook his head. “No. We don’t know anything about her, how can we trust her?”

            Aveline spoke up from her station beside the still downed Wesley. “I know what she is. The Witch of the Wilds.”

            The witch gave a subtle dip of her head. “Some call me that. Also Flemeth. Asha’bellanar. An old hag who talks to much.” She gave another laugh at that. “Does it matter? I offer you this… I will get your group past the horde in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a “witch of the wilds”?”

            Marian chewed on her lip as she looked at this Flemmeth, she flicked her eyes up to Carver and then to her Mother, who wasn’t really looking at her. Then to Aveline and Wesley… the Templar didn’t look so good. “Fine.”

            Flemeth narrowed her eyes in thought before offering Marian a simple amulet. “There is a clan of Dalish elves near the city of Kirkwall, deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari. Do as she asks with it, and any debt between us is paid in full.” She turned away and dreaded what had to come next. “Before I take you anywhere however… there is another matter.” She pinned her gaze on Wesley as he coughed.

            Aveline looked up as the talking stopped to see Marian looking over at them and Flemeth walking towards them, Marian following. Aveline stood up quickly. “No! You leave him alone!”

            Flemeth frowned. “What has been done to your man is within his blood already.”

            “You lie!” Aveline shook her head at the witch.

            “She’s right, Aveline…” Wesley spoke up, shaking his head. “I can feel the corruption… inside me…” He looked at his wife as she knelt down beside him again. “I’m sorry my love… I should have told you when I suspected it…” He reached up and cradled her cheek gently.

            Aveline wanted to deny it all but Wesley’s words had her heart skip a beat. She covered her hand with his, taking a deep breath. “How long until…”

            Wesley felt a rattle in his chest. “Not long now.”

            Marian shook her head. “There must be.. something… we can do, anything?” She didn’t want to lose another person, even this damned Templar.

            Flemeth glanced at Marian curiously. “The only cure I know of is to become a Gray Warden.”

            “And they all died at Ostagar.” Carver commented from his station, a few yards away.

            “Not all…” Flemeth countered, glancing to the man who’s pain was almost visible, as if it were a black cloud that hung around him. “But the last are now beyond your reach.”

            “Aveline… listen to me…” Wesley started but was interrupted.

            Aveline shook her head. “You can’t ask me to do this… I won’t.” She bowed her head as she felt the tears in her eyes.

            Wesley frowned deeply. “My love… the corruption is a slow death. I can’t…” His throat tightened as he tried to form another word.

            Marian knelt down beside them, her dagger in her hand, but she did not hold it by the hilt. She offered it to Aveline. “Aveline…”

            “No!” Aveline shied away from it.

            “Aveline.” Marian’s tone came out hard and that got Aveline to look at her. “By rights this burden is yours to bare… and yours alone. Do you understand? You are his wife. No one can bare this for you…. I’m… I’m sorry.”

            Aveline glared at Marian but took the knife. Of course the woman spoke the truth but it was a truth she didn’t want to hear. Marian walked away… giving them privacy. Aveline leaned over her husband and smoothed back his almost too short hair, staring into those eyes… eyes whose pupils had already started to cloud with the virus. “My love…. I _will_ see you again.”

            Wesley reached up with both hands and held her face gently. “I will be waiting for you by the Maker’s side…” He gave her a nod, though tears spilled over, he forced a smile and when she was poised but still didn’t move, he ran a hand down her arm and gripped the back of her elbow, giving her a knowing nod, he helped her drive the blade in.

            Aveline gasped and then went numb… it was done. She pulled the dagger out, slick and hot with his blood. He went fast… that was how weak he was. She handed the dagger back to Marian blindly.

            Flemeth rejoined them. “Without an end.. there can be no peace…. It gets no easier… your struggles have only just begun.”


	4. Chapter 4

Flemeth kept her word and got them all safely to port where they caught a ship… luckily the coin Carver had brought was enough to barter passage. For two weeks they were stuffed in the hold of that clipper ship, as if that weren’t bad enough, it was crowded. Carver held Leandra as the waves rocked the vessel, as her sobs rocked her. The loss of Bethany had effected them all greatly. Aveline had followed them… as if she were lost now in a world of strangers. At first, she’d sat apart from them… even as they’d paid her way. It was as if it were an unspoken reality, she was with them now. But eventually, she found her way to Marian’s side. Marian… who now sat away from her family, with only Kable to keep her company. The last words she’d spoken to either member of her family had been to Carver, the first night on the ship, when she’d draped Bethany’s necklace around his neck and fastened it. All she said was “It’s yours now.” And left him be. Carver had said nothing. Aveline got the impression that… for some reason she couldn’t figure out… both Leandra and Carver blamed Marian for Bethany’s death. It was completely misplaced… but it was there. And Marian let them. She just sat there quietly, one hand settled on Kable. But when Aveline finally sat beside her… and in the quiet hours of the night, when Aveline’s grief would find her… she’d feel a strong arm snake around her shoulders and she’d lean on Marian and welcome the apostate’s gift of comfort. But Marian shed no tears. That was how most of the journey went. And when they finally pulled into the City of Chains… the view of the Gallows wasn’t a welcome sight.

            Their first impression of Kirkwall? Well, a crowded dock with barely audible speaker system overhead advising refugees that the city was _at capacity_ and that city officials were all working to find _suitable shelter_ while they try to _find additional ships_ to ferry the refugees elsewhere and for everyone to _be patient_ , and if they had any questions they could direct them to the _immigration booths_.

Aveline frowned as she strained to hear the crackling voice from the dull speakers. She shook her head and looked to Marian. “They aren’t letting anyone into the city.”

Leandra covered her mouth and shook her head with a worried look. Marian just smirked. “Oh, they’re letting people in… if you’ve got the coin. Come on…” Carver shook his head with disgust because he agreed with her. They made their way through the milling and confused crowd to the gates, booths, and turn styles. The lines were insanely long at the immigration booths and Marian walked right past them to one of the turn styles and of course, she was stopped by one of the city guard.

The guardsmen, with his gilded Kirkwall City Guard badge on his drab brown uniform shirt, brown out-of-date body armor vest, standard issue Kirkwall shield and hand and a half sword on his hip held a hand up to them. “Oi, where do you think you’re going?” His hard eyes stared down at this brazen group and their mutt, but his expression was also tired. He’d been down here, _alone_ , at the only working turn style trying to keep the peace as hordes of refugees poured in.

Marian blinked at him as if _he_ was in the wrong. “Uh, home?”

The guard shook his head. “Nice try. We’ve been letting you refugees in for months. You’re too late. The city’s closed.” He settled one hand on the hilt of his sword as if to make a point, brows perking upwards as if to ask if she wanted to push the issue.

Marian raised a brow at him and tilted her head back as if _she_ were offended. But before she could speak further, Aveline butted in.

“Surely there’s someone else we could talk to.” Aveline stepped forward, her military uniform dirty, torn.. but still very much present. Or maybe it was the Templar shield on her arm that did it, who knows but the guard looked at her… sucked on one of his molars… glanced around and then begrudgingly let them pass.

“Captain Ewald in Gallows Square.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder and then looked past them as if they were no longer there, he didn’t have the time or energy to deal with them any longer. He was already pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to even let them pass, since they were supposed to be registering at the immigration desks.

Aveline gave the guardsmen a dip of her head and led them pass, Marian wore a smirk, Leandra whispered a _thank you_ , and Carver just ignored him… Kable growled low as he passed. But once inside they moved through the loading dock’s narrow passage ways, riddled with debris and water runoff, Marian had a hard time hiding the disgust on her face. She looked up but couldn’t see the sky… the smog was so thick down by the docks and the warehouses so tall, what was supposed to be streets were so narrow. They got turned around at least three times and Marian cursed under her breath, wishing she could use her bracelet… but knowing better. Amongst a bevy of _it’s this way’s_ and _I told you it was over there!_ They finally found their way into Gallows Square, taking a good breath of fresher air. Marian still felt like she couldn’t breathe properly, there was too much… stone and metal here, not enough plant life… but she walked on, adjusting the collar of her black duster, the long leather coat brushing the paved ground as her old boots carried her forth. Her extra clothes were a simple pair of jeans, torn in a few places but still on the whole not too bad and a basic black ribbed tank. Her eyes, honey colored, almost gold like her father’s… and sister’s… flicked to the Templars stationed around the yard and she leaned into Carver and whispered low to him. “Put that in your shirt.”

Carver’s bomber jacket had been a godsend, the trip across the sea had been wretchedly cold. His shirt was just another gray one, he’d never been much for variety. His extra jeans had been his older blue jeans and while he’d wished now Marian had grabbed a different pair, he didn’t blame her for it. He had, however, remembered to put his jacket on _over_ his broadsword, not that it hid it completely. It was still very much visible, but it made it harder to get to and thus, more acceptable. His combat boots though were unmistakably military issue. He heard the hissing whisper to his right and glanced down at his sister in minor confusion before he followed her flicking eyes and put a hand on his chest, just below his shirt collar where he felt Bethany’s talisman… he swallowed harshly but tucked it beneath his shirt quickly. He was no mage… but he didn’t want it confiscated either… magical items exactly like the one he just hid were considered illegal contraband, even if _he_ couldn’t use it. The Templars wouldn’t care. He eyed them just as untrustingly as they moved through the courtyard. They stood there, like looming wraiths… their all black uniforms, tactical gear, vests, belts, boots, helms, even their face masks, only their eyes were visible.. the rest was clad in black. Their shields though, those were silver and imprinted with the Templar symbol, covering not just their forearms but the backs of their hands too. Their Templar badges? Likewise brilliantly silver, the blue emblem of their order brilliantly displayed. On their backs, stitched in reflective lettering TEMPLAR. You’d never miss _them_. Their massive two handed swords unmistakable, the hilt crowned with their trademark circular pommel, engraved with the symbol of Andraste. There at least twenty in the square. Seemingly milling about, but all on guard.

Aveline made a direct line to the this Captain Ewald, she could tell who he was by how many people were already bugging him and how tired and frustrated he looked. Leandra just looked dazed… she hadn’t been back in Kirkwall in… oh… at least twenty five years. It was different… but it was the same. She turned around in the square and just… looked. It was almost… creepy. Like she’d stepped back in time. But her son’s covert cough got her attention and she quickly caught up. The Captain was busy with even more refugees, ones that probably hadn’t gone through immigration either. Aveline eyed the one who was currently yelling at the Captain with wide eyes, watching the black lines trek out of his collar. She stepped away from him slowly, shifting her gaze to Marian and giving a side tilting nod to the man and looking back at the telling signs of the blight.

Marian had walked up with a deep breath, having stilled herself with all the Templars present. She was just kind of looking around when she caught Aveline’s look and followed the nod… her eyes flared as she too took a step away. True, the blight couldn’t be caught _that_ way… but one could never be too careful. She’d had enough of the conversation and interrupted. “Surely you’re letting _some people_ into the city. _Some people_ being born citizens?” Marian pressed as she came to stand beside Aveline, tugging on her Mother’s wool sleeve to bring her up between them.

Leandra cleared her throat and nodded quickly at the Captain. “I grew up here, I still have family here. Gamlen Amell is my brother, we have an estate in the Hightown district.”

Captain Ewald was about one hundred percent done with these refugees when yet another one thought they could just butt in and sway him from his duty. He rolled his eyes at her claim. “Oh sure…” Then the older one spoke and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Gamlen?” He thought for a moment, one hand finding his hip while the other tapped his chin before he shook his head. “The only Gamlen I know couldn’t rub two coppers together.” He watched as the old woman’s face practically fell. “But, I can see if we can’t get word to him…”

“Oi, hang on!” The tainted man sneered as he looked at the newcomers and then the damned guard. “You’re going to let them in? We’ve been here for four days, they just got here!”

The guard sighed. “No one’s getting in!” He barked back. But the damage was done.

“That’s it. Men! We’re carving our way in!” The man shouted and then all hell broke loose. Marian shoved Leandra out of the way just as one of the six men attacked _her_.

“What the hell, man?” Marian yelled at him… drawing her dagger… not having much choice in the matter with all these damned Templars around. Luckily, she wasn’t completely defenseless. But she wasn’t great with a dagger either and thank goodness for Aveline. Between Aveline, Carver, Kable, and Marian’s little pig sticker… and the lone Guardsmen… they managed to quell the threat fairly quickly. Even Leandra had screamed and smacked one of the men with her pack. Marian was breathing heavily once it was over, she looked between her family, including Aveline, doing a visual once over to make sure they weren’t injured. Then she looked around at the other refugees who had just shrunk back into the shadows, hiding in their makeshift shelters. Then to the Templars… who had done nothing, though judging by a few of their stances… some had wanted to intervene. She looked back at the Captain as he too caught his breath just as _another_ guard trotted up. “Happen often?”

The Captain was winded and just… done. The guard that came up received his ire over the situation and he chose to ignore the refugee with the smart mouth. Once he ordered his guard to get this mess cleaned up he turned to the ones who had helped him. “Thanks. Look… I _can’t_ let you in the city… that isn’t my call. But I can send word to Gamlen.. if he comes, I’ll take you to him.” He really did wish he could just let them in. It’d make his world a whole lot easier, and then they, along with all the other refugees, would be somebody else’s problem.

Three days passed before Gamlen showed. And when he did… neither Marian nor Carver were overly impressed. The man was a tad overweight, in desperate need of a shave and a trim, his clothes were ratty and he had this all around greasy look to him. He looked as though he might have been attractive… a long, long, _long_ time ago. But now? He was just young enough to be creepy and too old to be considered cool. But that didn’t stop Leandra from rushing to him with relief. Marian gave Carver a highbrowed look as she scratched her upper lip and turned away, hiding her smirk. Carver just shook his head at his older sister.

“Leandra? Damn girl, the years haven’t been kind to you.” Gamlen drawled out as he gave his once beloved sister a hug. She looked so… old.

“Oh Gamlen! I’m so glad to see you!” Leandra was relieved beyond measure. Finally, they could get into the city. “Come.. come..” She took his hand and lead him back the few yards to where everyone else waited. Kable didn’t think much of the man and showed it by ducking behind Marian and setting his ears back. Leandra sniffled and wiped at her eyes with her free hand when she came up to them. “Gamlen… these are my children. This is my eldest… Marian.”

Marian turned to face Gamlen with an unreadable look, her gilded eyes pinning him as she noticed his dislike right off the bat. She just folded her arms over her chest, her black leather sleeves stretching with the action. Oh she knew the story; their Mother had met their Father when she was only eighteen and she _had_ been promised to another noblemen’s son. But… fell in love with a mage instead, tarnishing their family’s reputation and eventually fled with the mage when she got pregnant with none other than Marian herself. Thus why Marian had never had much interest in this side of the family, she knew she’d never be received well. She just perked a brow at him slightly as she looked him up and down and gave a silent snort as if to say she didn’t think much of him either.

“And this is Carver.” Leandra added… though it was pained. This was the first time she’d had to introduce them without Bethany. Carver recovered for her though by thrusting his hand out to his Uncle.

“Uncle.” Carver’s firm voice and Amell blue eyes gave Gamlen a line.

He shook Carver’s hand easily after nearly sneering at that Marian, with her brazen mage eyes. But he was confused, he looked to the red haired woman and then to Leandra and at Carver again. “I thought there was another one?”

Leandra bowed her head while Carver’s features hardened. Marian just shook her head and looked away with obvious disbelief and disapproval. “It’s just us now.” She said quietly.

Gamlen frowned deeply and wrapped an arm around his sister. “Damn… I’m sorry, Leandra.”

Leandra just nodded and sniffled, whipping at her eyes with her dingy wool sleeve. “It’s fine. I’m just glad that we’re finally here.”

Gamlen looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Yeah… about that. Look, I thought I could grease some palms to get you lot in but it turns out the Knight Captain is cracking down… we’re going to need more grease.”

Leandra looked confused. “But… what about the estate? Surely Father left something when he died? I don’t understand?”

Gamlen frowned at her. “Don’t know how else to say this but… it’s gone, alright. I had to sell it to.. settle an old debt. There’s nothing I can do about that right now. But… I did manage to get you two…” He looked between Marian and Carver. “a meeting with each Meran and Athenriel. They have the best chances of getting you all in. But….” He stalled out.

Marian raised a brow at him, not liking this at all. “But.” She prompted, stepping nearer, as they appeared to be conspiring.

Gamlen looked as though he didn’t want to say… but he said it anyway. “You’ll have to work off the debt… for a year.”

Leandra gasped. “For a year?!”

Gamlen shrugged. “It was the best I could do. Don’t go around here expecting our name to carry much weight anymore.”

Carver cursed low under his breath and just turned around, running a hand through his short hair. Marian sighed heavily and looked up… and counted to ten in her mind. Aveline spoke up though. “What about me? I won’t allow others to incur debt on my behalf.”

Gamlen gave a bit of a laugh at her. “I can’t see how it matters. Whether it’s three or four, the deal’s the same.”

Leandra looked at Aveline with a firm nod. “You’ll come with us then.”

Marian had finished her counting and looked at Gamlen with a rather unamused expression. “Alright… who’s who.”

Gamlen glanced at Carver who still hadn’t turned back around but answered Marian. “Meran runs the local mercenary band called the Red Iron. Athenriel is well… you’d call her a smuggler.”

Marian shifted her weight so that she was arm to arm with Carver, canting her head up just as he looked down at her. They said in unison. “Smuggler.” She returned her attention back to Gamlen and narrowed her eyes at him with a shake of her head before turning around lazily. “Alright then.. let’s go have a little looky looky.” She said with an odd accent, tugging her jeans up a bit and adjusting her coat.

            They found Athenriel easily though Aveline looked completely out of place, Carver tried to look tough, which was actually pretty easy. But Marian found that neither of them were up to talking so she strolled on up, not walked… no, never Marian, she _strolled_. “You must be Athenriel.”

            “And you must be the Hawkes.” Athenriel drawled at the woman. She gave her a good once over and then looked at the boy, doing the same. “Meh… if you’re half as good as your Uncle says you are… well, you’ll fit right in.”

            “And what did _Uncle_ say exactly?” Carver ground out, his arms crossed over his chest, looking none too pleased.

            Athenriel smirked at him. “Just that you were a soldier… and wanting to get in the city. Oh… and we’d never turn down the gifts of an apostate.” She pinned Marian with a knowing look.

            Marian raised a brow at the elf woman and shook her head a bit. “Gamlen’s got a big mouth.”

            Carver shook his head with a snort of his own. But Athenriel continued. “We can offer protection, as long as you work for me.” She gave Marian a knowing smirk. Hook, line.. and sinker. Carver muttered something under his breath but Marian just narrowed her eyes at the woman.

            “Alright Athenriel… you got yourself a deal.” She held a hand out to the _viper_. When the elf woman smirked again and took it, Marian held it a bit harder than she needed to, her pupils flashing just so as her palm heated to _almost_ an uncomfortable temperature. “But keep that mage bit quiet yeah… there are _ears_ everywhere.”

            Athenriel’s eyes flared at the veiled threat but she gave a laugh in return, retrieving her hand and blowing on it with an amused grin.. so… she was a pyromancer, those weren’t common and for good reason, they were one of the most hunted kinds of mages… for how dangerous they were. “Oh yeah… I’m gonna like this.”

            Carver rolled his eyes. But that’s how they got in. The bribes were made… and the palms were greased. The gates were opened for them and into Kirkwall they went. Gamlen led them through the winding roads of Hightown, the old world feel of the place with its high stone walls and estates that stretched on and on. It was… disconcerting, if Marian were any judge. They had trees in planter boxes for crying out loud, who does that? But that’s not where they were heading… they were heading for Lowtown. Athenriel said she’d be in touch… and she didn’t doubt her for a second. She probably knew exactly where Gamlen lived. The difference between Lowtown and Hightown was like night and day. The streets of Hightown were all smooth pavement, the sidewalks kept clean and everything was just so… perfect. But go down about a quarter mile and it all changed. Lowtown. The streets here were supposed to be cobblestone, in reality they were whatever the people could use to fill in the holes so it would make their lives easier. Oh, occasionally the city would actually do work on the streets but that was only when they’d become impassable. The buildings were all… brown. But, the people were friendlier. Warmer. During the daytime at least. But that was true for the _entire_ city. Fabrics of every color you could imagine were draped out every window, strung across alley ways, the open air markets weren’t half bad. But… it was still the poor part of town and you knew it. The warehouses and apartment buildings all crammed together. There were no trees here… except for the alieanage, but they weren’t going there. That was where the city’s elves lived.


	5. Chapter 5

Gamlen led them through the markets and past a shitty looking tavern, around a corner and deep into a ghetto… up some stairs and apparently to his door. He had to throw his whole weight into the thing after unlocking it to get it to open. There was a huge window right by the door that you could just climb into from the balcony type porch. There was an apartment below him, above him, and on either side. The glass in his big window was gone, however long ago. Now, wood planks filled it in. His whole apartment was about twenty feet by ten feet that was divided into two rooms, one being fifteen by ten, the other five by ten plus another room that added on another ten by ten… and one fireplace to combat the chill. No other windows and no bathroom, there was a shared toilet for the building downstairs. Not too bad for just one person… and pretty big for Lowtown. But add four more people and a dog? It got real cramped, real fast. Someone was starting a fight outside somewhere and the yelling carried, causing Leandra to frown.

            Gamlen looked… ashamed though. He tossed his keys onto a rough looking sideboard table. “Well.. this uh… this is it.” He didn’t look any of them in the eye. He could feel the judgment. He looked around what was supposed to be his kitchen (it was only three feet of counter space, a fueled single burner, and a sink that had no water), his dining room (a small table with two chairs, though one was only ever used), and his living room (a ratty couch and another wooden chair with a upturned crate for a side table).

            Leandra looked around and just… couldn’t believe it. From their family’s estate to this… “Oh Gamlen…” She covered her mouth and felt the tears welling up.

            Carver just shook his head while Aveline? Well, she didn’t say anything at all. It wasn’t her place, she didn’t judge either.

            But it was Marian who really shocked Gamlen. She clapped her hands before setting down her pack. “Whew… I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m f…” She paused in the middle of the sound, carrying it, looking at her Mother with high brows before continuing. “Freaking tired. So, let’s figure out who sleeps where.” She took a few steps and peeked behind a curtain that served as a door to the spare room. Finding that it was pretty much empty except for what looked like something that might have been a dresser at one point and a twin lumpy mattress with some stuffing falling out sitting on a metal bed frame that looked like it belonged in an old hospital from about a hundred years ago. “Alright, spare room.” She said with a smile and a nod. “See Mother, Uncle’s always kept space for us.” Kable trotted right on in as Marian pointed to the other curtain. “And, I’m guessing that’s your room?” She looked at Gamlen.

            Gamlen blinked at her and her actions… and words. It took him a minute to respond because when she looked at him… he saw absolutely no judgment in her eyes. “Uh.. yeah, yes. Yes it is.” He kind of jumped with the first step he took, walking over to it. “I have some extra pillows and blankets… they’re… not much but…” He ducked into his room and pulled them down off the top shelf of his door-less closet and came back out. “We can.. get more.. tomorrow.”

            When no one moved, Marian was right there. She took them and nodded. “Hell, I’m happy with a pillow. Better than using that pack again.” She made her way back into the spare room, watching as Kable chased away a rat. He snorted as the rat disappeared into a hole in the corner. “Good boy.” Marian said with a nod, Kable returned it. She looked around for a clean place to set the pillows and blankets down and saw none. She sighed heavily before giving a low whistle to the mabari and nodding for him to leave the room. He did and once he did, she stomped her foot as her pupils flashed, a wave of super heated air went out from her foot, pushing all the dust and dirt to the walls. “All clear!” She called out. Kable trotted back in followed by Aveline and Carver. Marian glanced over her shoulder just as she was setting the pile of pillows and blankets down.

            Carver was carrying their packs but he looked like he wanted to punch something. “Gamlen’s letting Mother sleep with him in his room. She’ll at least have a real bed. Even if it looks like it has fleas.” He ground out before setting the bags down.

            Aveline frowned at Carver. “Carver… it’s a roof.” She reminded him.

            Carver stood up and looked at Aveline with narrowed eyes. “Aveline… I already have an older sister _and_ a Mother… I don’t need another of either.”

            Aveline raised a brow at him and kicked her head back just a bit. “No, but you need an ass whopping if you don’t check that attitude.”

            Marian had frozen and was looking up at the two of them, she had been rolling out a surprisingly thick blanket to sleep on, her eyes going from one to the other, doing her very best not to smile, her lips rolled in to stop the action.

            Carver raised his brows at Aveline… and stared at her before he let out a chuckle. He was joined quickly by Aveline and Marian. All three of them had a good laugh. Carver had a hand over his stomach as he shook his head. “Damn, Aveline. Alright, for that you can have the… bed… for one night only, this is all yours!” Carver said in his best cheesy voice, displaying the mattress.

            Aveline was still drying her eyes from that fit of laughter as she looked at the bed. “I’d almost prefer the floor…”

            Marian looked at the bed with narrowed eyes, just long enough for Aveline to catch the look… and for Carver to do the same. Suddenly Marian was on her feet and all three dove for it, landing hard as squeals and screams started being let out. Marian was slapping at Carver’s arms as he gripped onto the headboard rails and tried to stretch out while Aveline was pushing with all her might against his hips with her lower back, the metal foot posts screeching as it scooted along the concrete, Aveline’s boots the reason. Carver had one arm around Marian’s neck, putting her in a sort of choke hold while he had one boot firmly placed on the footboard’s railing while his other one was flailing around trying to get away from Aveline’s strong arm, which was trying to grab hold of him no doubt to pull or push him off.

            Leandra flipped through the curtain with Gamlen right behind her. She gasped and stepped into the room. “Marian! Carver!.... Aveline!” The last came out a bit stalled but out it came none the less. She had invoked… _the Mom voice_.

            All three of them froze… and tried not to laugh. Leandra just stared at them and shook her head. “I swear… by the Maker… you two… and you…” She just huffed. “Acting like children!”

            “He _is_ a child.” Marian bit out even as she tried not to laugh. Leandra huffed again and left. Marian just laughed harder.

Carver shoved at her as his sister sat up. “I am _not_ a child.” He sat up further, rubbing at the side of his arm that had been pinched at some point during the fray.

Aveline likewise sat up… she didn’t know what had gotten into her. Maybe it was the stress of the journey… her grief, which still weighed heavily on her. Or it was just being so accepted by these people… how they made her feel… like a part of the family. “To us, you are.” She added, giving Carver a similar shove.

Carver raised a brow at Aveline. “By that then, _you_ really should have the bed… because ya know… you’re old.”

Marian busted out laughing while Aveline raised a hand threateningly at Carver. “Boy…” She shook her head at him.

Marian shook her head at them just as Leandra poked her head back in. “I’m… I’m going to bed.” She looked as though she wanted to say something else but didn’t. Instead she crossed the room almost too quickly, tears already in her eyes as she gathered her children too her in an embrace, but it felt incomplete. So… she reached and Aveline was pulled in. She knew that Aveline wasn’t her child… she was far too old to even be considered as such. But… she did it anyway. “Get some sleep.”

Marian and Carver were squished but Aveline was really shocked… it was far too awkward for her. But they all three dutifully nodded. Once Leandra left, Aveline looked around the room and at Kable, the mabari, who had already laid down on the blanket that Marian had rolled out.

Marian sighed heavily. “Ya know… we can all fit on here tonight. We all deserve to sleep on something soft.”

Carver was unlacing his boots when he looked behind him at the bed and gave a nod. “Yeah, even if it is missing some of its stuffing.”

Aveline frowned as she looked at the bed. “Are you serious?”

Carver tossed his boots a bit and gave a nod. “Yeah, why not?” He laid down on the bed and stretched, yawning loudly, rolling on his side and slapping the bed in front of him. “Come on, I won’t bite.”

Aveline didn’t look convinced. Marian smirked as her boots hit the floor. “Here, look.” She gestured to the space behind Carver. “Put your head down there… and feet here, face away from him.” She stalled at the look that Aveline was giving her. “What? We’ve had to share a bed before. We’ve got this down to a science.”

Aveline shrugged and did as instructed and found that… she actually fit, she didn’t have _much_ room… but she did fit. She yawned deeply as she felt the bed dip again. Marian had laid down in front of Carver, who threw his arm over her, much as he’d always done with his twin. He didn’t think about that though, he refused to. Instead… he made a sort of gagging sound. “Maker, Aveline… your feet stink.”

Aveline smacked him wherever her hand hit, she didn’t even care, her eyes were already closed, sleep pulling at her.

“Ow!” Carver jerked his arm back, she’d got him right on the back of the bicep and damn it stung. But he smirked all the same.

“Carver, enough.” Marian said groggily as she too was already drifting.

Carver just smirked and closed his eyes. In less than a few heartbeats, they were all three asleep. Kable lifted his head from his position and tilted it slightly at them. Then he got up with a shake of his head, nosed around in one of the packs and sniffed out one of their blankets. It took him a few tries but he eventually got it spread out over them. Damn humans… they should have known better. There was very little heat in this apartment… and he knew they were going to be chilled, but they’d been smart, in his opinion, to curl up together. He just wished there was enough space up there for him. Times like this, he wished he wasn’t quite so big. So, he returned to the blanket on the floor and, using another one of their blankets, curled up himself and finally let himself sleep in earnest, the last thing he saw before sleep took him was his master’s face. By all the grace that was a mabari’s bond… he loved that mage.

Marian and Carver spent the next year smuggling for Athenriel. It wasn’t honest work but it wasn’t dishonest either, not really. Carver didn’t necessarily like it… but it was better than the alternative. And the viper was fair. A year to the day, their debt was paid off and she’d even given them a bonus for them to go out into the ‘world’ with. Aveline however, hadn’t joined in on the smuggling. She got hired on with the city guard. Life wasn’t shitty but it wasn’t good either.


	6. Act I

Marian rolled out of bed with a groan, Kable just stretched out in the empty space she’d left in the twin bed, the same one that had been there when they’d arrived. Carver was still snoring in his bed, one much like hers on the opposite wall. Aveline hadn’t gotten her own bed, she had said it would be a waste since it’d only taken her a month to get on with the city guard and she could stay in the barracks. Before then, she’d just shared Marian’s bed. Especially during her ‘training’. A massive sheet was strung in the room, dividing it, though it was almost never pulled closed. Gamlen’s idea. For some reason, he thought it would make Marian more comfortable. Marian had repainted the room with some messed up paint she found behind a warehouse and Carver had pinned up a few things on his side. Some newspaper clippings, news from Ferelden, job postings, a few pictures of him and Bethany, and a pin-up. Above Marian’s bed, a single photo. Malcolm. Gamlen always glared at it, but his snide comments had dried up after about six months when he wasn’t getting whatever reaction he was looking for. The door-less closet was a mix of Carver and Marian’s clothes, what few they had. Some under-armor left over from their work for the viper, that still came in handy. A few pairs of jeans and some thermal shirts. Marian had started with four but had three now, Carver had stolen one and stretched it out. So she stole one of his t-shirts and used it to sleep in. All’s fair between siblings. Even if they bickered incessantly.  

The sun wasn’t even up yet but Marian was. Her internal clock like no other. They’d only been home for about five hours. Carver’s second job at the docks loading and unloading freight didn’t start for another couple hours, though he wasn’t going today, but Marian’s started in about half an hour. She yawned as quietly as she could, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing at her face roughly. Her long hair barely keeping to the braid she kept it in while she slept. She swayed slightly, almost falling back into bed if it weren’t for Kable’s rough nose into her back, she straightened and opened her eyes a bit wider and glanced behind her, giving the mabari a good scratch behind his ear. She got up and stumbling a bit in the darkness as she made way to the closet, squinting in the low light that came in from under the door-curtain, she pulled a pair of her jeans out and nearly fell over getting into them, bracing a hand on the wall to steady herself, but she got them on. She exchanged the aforementioned t-shirt for a ribbed tank, knowing that even though it’d be cold down at the docks, it’d be better than getting sleeves dirty with fish scales. She sniffled as she pulled out some socks from the broke down dresser, wool ones, made by their Mother. Feet into boots and back up, she put her belt on, equipped with that same old dagger. She pulled her hair out of the braid and finger combed it up into a ponytail, she never fussed with it much. Out into the main room where she pulled her duster off a nail and flipped it on, she was at the door when she heard a low hiss.

Carver stood in the doorway to their room, rubbing one of his eyes, standing there in a pair of sweatpants. “Don’t forget, we need to be at the merchant’s guild quarter at eight.” He grumbled.

Marian nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned and nodded to him. “I know.” Her voice barely a croak, she needed coffee. “Go back to bed, you still have a few hours.” She didn’t see if he answered her, she stepped out and shut the door behind her. She shivered as a chill went through her. Damn it was cold this morning. She fished a hand rolled cigarette out of her duster pocket and lit it up, thankful Gamlen had left her at least a few this time, disguising her magic by shielding it with one hand, like someone might do when using a match. She took a drag and went down the stairs with a bit of a bounce and headed around the corner. Two blocks away she stopped at an elven merchant’s street cart.

“Oi Tomwise.” She held up two fingers with a copper coin between them. The elf smiled at her and they traded. Her coin for a small cup of very strong coffee plus a little extra. “Thanks.”

Tomwise always had a smile for Marian. “Off to work?”

“Yeah.” She said over the mug after she took a sip. “Just a few hours this morning.”

Tomwise shook his head. “You work too much, you know that?”

Marian just finished the coffee, it was only a little but it did the trick. Of course, coming from Tomwise, it wasn’t _just_ coffee. She felt the pick-me-up right away. “Yep. Thanks man. See you tomorrow.”

Tomwise took the cup back. “Why not tonight?” He called after her, laughing as she flipped him off and disappeared into the early morning warehouse crowd. He turned his attention to another customer who wasn’t as friendly as the Ferelden.

Marian gave her own smirk, finishing her cigarette on the way. Her morning job down at the docks was helping to unload the fishing trawlers that came in the morning. She walked into the warehouse that smelled like fish, into the locker room where she hung up her coat and exchanged it for a rubber apron and a pair of gloves, and went out onto the docks just as a trawler was pulling up. She joined at least half a dozen others there to do the same thing. To work their asses off for about twenty silver a morning. It wasn’t much, but it was coin. Two dwarves, three elves, and another Ferelden refugee like her. This was an under the table kind of place. You showed up? You got paid. Simple as that.

It was fifteen until eight when she finally got the silver in her hand, she didn’t even have time to shower. She just chucked the apron and gloves into the bin, snatched her coat, and hauled ass over to the merchant’s guild quarter to meet Carver. By the time she got there she was out of breath, she’d dodged half a dozen taxis and almost ran over three noble ladies. But she was there… and smelling of fish. _Shit.. shit… shit.. shit._ She cursed in her mind. She’d almost considered hailing a cab and spending her morning money but that would have been stupid, work a morning just to get a taxi from that job to a meeting? If she were going to do that she should have just stayed home, it was closer.

Carver saw her coming and cursed under his breath. He knew she was going to be late. Which was why he told her eight and not eight fifteen which was their actual appointment time. He shook his head at her when she ran up, he glanced up to the big clock that hung in the quarter. “Five minutes late.” He chastised her. He wore his father’s jacket, his nicest pair of jeans and the thermal he’d stolen from her. His broad sword was at home, he’d already gotten three citations for having it on him and one guard threatened to confiscate it. So… it was dagger city for him too. Which he hated.

Marian had her hands on her knees as she was catching her breath. In between pants she spoke. “I… know… I… got... here… as… fast… as I could.” She finally straightened and gave him an apologetic look.

Carver tried to hold his serious look but he couldn’t, he gave the slightest of smirks. “I’m fuckin’ with you. It’s not for another ten minutes.”

Marian gave him that _are you kidding me_ look before smacking his arm. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get here this fast?”

Carver couldn’t help but laugh a bit, even at the smack, which he hardly felt through his jacket. “I knew you’d be late.” He shrugged. “Come on, we can be _early_ … for once.”

Marian glared at him and shook her head… oh he’d pay for this. But… he was right. So she just nodded, smoothed her hair down and tucked it behind her ears. “Right.” She gave a nod. “We got this.” She adjusted her duster collar, tilted her head slightly, and strolled into the quarter.

Carver put his game face on and gave her a firm nod. “Mmhm.” Confidence is key, he kept telling himself. He fell into step beside his sister, but he didn’t stroll. That wasn’t his way, he walked like the soldier he was. His hard look took in those who were milling about.

The Merchant’s Guild quarter. The center of dwarven presence in Kirkwall. The Merchant’s Guild was the link between the surface world and the last remaining dwarven stronghold, Orzammar. Most were _kalnas_ , surface dwarves that kept to the traditions of Orzammar as if they were still underground. But some were _ascendants_ , dwarves that didn’t give a rat’s ass about most of the traditions. If anyone on the surface needed anything… primarily Lyrium… the Merchant’s Guild was involved. They were the traders, the merchant’s, the if you want it, they can get it people. But that’s not to say they weren’t without corruption. Basically speaking, they were a wide network of legal organized crime families, they just did it all by the books. On the flip side, you had the Carta, which decided legalities were just a pain in the ass. They had their hands in everything, even the Guild. Dwarves themselves were sometimes not so easy to spot, however. Their stature was only slightly less than humans, coming in at about five feet for their women, five and half feet for the men. What usually gave them away was their natural thickness, their muscular structure, and their pale eyes. Those born below the surface in Orzammar had eerily pale eyes. But for those born above, they were harder to detect. The accent could also give them away, but that was never a sure thing either. Though for Marian… dwarves might as well be regular people for her short stature, coming in at just a few inches taller than dwarf women.

Marian and Carver had a meeting with one Bartrand Tethras. The word in Lowtown was that he was putting together an expedition to the Deep Roads, the ancient dwarven super highways that stretched beneath all of Thedas… and were rich with artifacts. Expeditions were rare… and that made getting on to one that much harder. But that didn’t deter them, they were there for a job and they _were_ going to get it. Carver took the lead, his eyes scanning the names on the plaques that dotted the quarter, finally he gestured to Marian when he spotted the dwarven lettering that spelled out _Tethras_. The office front was a little run down but it didn’t matter, Carver went right in.

The whole place was… old. Kind of a mix between old and old world. And it smelled funny, if Marian was any judge. Carver glanced around the small hallway that they found themselves in, there was a door to the left and one to the right.. and one straight ahead. They were all open, shit. Carver glanced down and over his shoulder to Marian when a booming voice barked at them.

“Well don’t just stand there human, I don’t have all day!” Bartrand barked from his office, the one straight ahead. He was standing at his desk, fists bracing his weight as he leaned over looking at an old (and outdated) map of the roads.

Carver gave Marian a _look_ and walked ahead and into Bartrand’s office. Marian followed and upon being told to _shut the damn door_ , she did. It took about ten minutes of conversation, arguing, and yelling- mostly on Bartrand’s part, before the door opened again and Carver made for the door. Marian stood at Bartrand’s door though and waited until Carver had walked outside. She turned back to Bartrand who was looking at her with all kinds of attitude, his thick arms crossed over his chest. The dwarf’s somewhat long dirty blonde hair barely contained by a tie, his leather vest and various patches strained over his body, his plaid shirt sleeves rolled up on his forearms, his jeans oil stained and biker style boots crushing the crap carpet beneath his feet. His nearly white eyes just stared at her.

Marian looked him up and down as she relieved an itch behind her ear. “Ya know, Bartrand… we’re not just another couple hirelings.” She held his eye as her pupils shined for the briefest of moments. “We could be valuable.. beneath the surface… in the darkness.” Her voice dipped with the insinuation, a single brow perking just slightly.

Bartrand’s own pupils dilated just slightly as he shifted his jaw and gave her another once over. But his stubborn streak kicked in. “I said no, human. Now get the fuck out.”

Marian gave him a look that said it was actually _his_ loss, shrugged, and made her way back outside. Passing another dwarf on the way, she looked at him, their eyes locked as she passed and then she cut the connection and vanished out the door.

Varric was leaning against his doorframe, having gotten nosey with all the yelling. He watched this strange human (the only indication he had that she was, in fact, human was how slender she was… even dwarven women were stocky) standing at his brother’s office door. Then, Bartrand dismissed her so easily but when she walked past him, she caught his eye, literally and figuratively. She was human… but she was actually shorter than he was, which was odd in itself. It was one of those moments he liked to write about so much. When two characters meet and you just knew it was the start of something. Whether it was something good or bad, you didn’t know quite yet. But it was the start of _something_. He glanced back at his brother who likewise stood at his door.

“What?” Bartrand barked at him before shutting his office door.

Varric raised a brow at his brother and then blinked as Bartrand shut himself up. Varric ran a hand over his stubbled chin. “Hmm.” He looked at the front door… the wheels-a-turnin’. He narrowed his hazel eyes before turning back into his office, his shoulder holsters shifting as he put his dual crossbow revolvers in their places on his lower back and then snatched his Sherpa-lined leather coat that came down to his thighs, pulled it on and adjusted the collar. His hair, just like his brothers but a little more tame, flaring out a bit around the wide collar of that old coat and out the door he went, chasing after that strange woman in the long black duster.

Marian caught up to Carver and damned if he wasn’t moving like a freight train. As soon as she was beside him she shook her head. “Well… you did… great in there?” She was trying to pay him a compliment but it came out sounding… well, like… her.

Carver was pissed. Just… pissed. For a lot of reasons. “If you think you can do better, you go make him understand why we need this so fucking bad. After all, we’re running from your damn Templars.” He ground out.

Marian’s features hardened at that. “I’m well aware of that.”

Carver sighed heavily, knowing she didn’t deserve that… but he wasn’t going to apologize for speaking the truth. “So, it’s back to waiting for someone else to turn us in. We need to figure out something fast, I don’t fancy waking up in the Gallows.”

Marian shook her head. “Us? They’re _my_ Templars, remember. You’ll be fine. You can just say you _didn’t know_. No Gallows for _you._ ” She said the last with no amount of sarcasm spared.

Carver looked up for a moment. Dammit. “Mari…”

Marian glanced away from him. “Forget it. I’ll figure something out. Maybe… ugh… and I can’t believe I’m suggesting it. Maybe Gamlen will know something?”

Carver made a face at her suggestion. “I don’t want to know what all _he_ knows. But… I don’t see any other option. I don’t want to go back to Athenriel. We need coin.. a lot of it.”

“I might be able to help with that.” Varric just strolled right on up, why not? They _were_ still in the quarter.

Carver’s brows instantly went down as his gaze flicked to the unwelcomed dwarf who looked an awful lot like that son-of-a-bitch who just kicked them out of his office. “And you are?” Carver didn’t even try to get rid of the edge to his tone.

Marian raised a brow as she turned around, flicking her eyes up to the dwarf that she’d seen earlier- which wasn’t saying much… she wasn’t tall, the shortest in her family actually, she tilted her head just slightly in question. She gave him an up and down look, jeans, brown biker boots, gray thermal shirt, the hint of holster straps peeking out from beneath his coat, and a rather gaudy gold necklace that ended in an open ring on his chest, not too big but… not small. One of his ears was pierced twice while the other was pierced just once, all gold rings. She ran her tongue over her teeth behind her closed lips and waited, looking anything but amused.

Varric gave Carver a smirk of a grin before shifting his gaze to Marian and bowed to both of them rather sarcastically. “Varric Tethras. At your service.” He righted and thumbed his belt buckle, a gold oval with just a bunch of designs on it, if one wanted to look close enough, they’d find the Kirkwall symbol on it amongst the runes, artfully hidden of course.

Carver glared down at the dwarf, Carver being a cool six foot himself. As far as he was concerned, any Tethras was on his shit list at the moment. “What do you want?”

Marian appeared to have lost interest already and began fishing around in her duster pocket, shifting this way and that, having to chase the damn thing out in front of her before finally using her other hand to keep it still, she wore a look of _ah ha! Victory!_ When she pulled out a hand rolled and put it between her lips only to have Carver snatch it out of them. “Oi!”

Carver put it in the corner of his mouth and pulled a match from his pocket, struck it on the end of his thumb and lit it up, much to his sister’s ire.

“Thief.” Marian muttered as she pulled out another one. She had it between her lips in no time and was lifting just her hands up when a metallic flick sounded and a flame appeared before her. She raised her brows at Varric, the dwarf who was holding out a lighter for her. The flame was dancing wildly in the breeze but she leaned in and lit her smoke, pulling away as she took a drag and kept her eye locked with the dwarf before she winked and his lighter’s flame went about six inches up before it puffed out with an audible pop.

Oh, Varric could be smooth when he wanted to be. He wore a knowing smirk when she lit her cigarette… and the only warning he got was the slightest flash in her pupils when she winked and then his lighter turned into a miniature flame thrower for that briefest of moments, he cursed and flipped the top shut much to Marian’s amusement and Carver’s annoyance. Varric gave a quiet chuckle before pulling a smoke of his own and lighting it, though cautiously. Lighter safely back in his pocket, he exhaled and kept the hand rolled between his middle and ring fingers. “So, here’s the deal. My brother… he lacks vision. The name Hawke is on a lot of lips these days… the work you’ve done for Athenriel hasn’t gone unnoticed.” He looked between them, watching how Marian started smirking and how Carver shied away. All tells that told him about them.

Marian raised a brow. “You mean, the work _we’ve_ done.” She corrected.

Varric shrugged. “More so you than him.”

Carver shook his head with one of those looks of _unbelievable_. “Figures.”

Varric chose to ignore the boy and continued. “My brother wouldn’t recognize talent if it hit him in the face.”

Marian pulled a piece of loose leaf from her lip. “And you would?”

Varric gave her a cocky little grin. “I would.”

Carver shook his head. “Your brother already said no.”

Varric raised a brow at the boy. “We don’t need another hireling, that part is true. What we need… is a partner.” He looked back at Marian. “My brother’s been trying to get this expedition off the ground for months. But… it’s expensive.”

Marian looked between the two men and shifted her weight. “How much are we talking?”

Carver almost gaped at her. “You’re not serious?”

Marian ignored him and kept looking at Varric. Who replied.

Varric gave a bit of a shrug and glanced around before answering. “A hundred gold should do it. You get that into my brother’s hand and he’ll have no choice but to make you partner.” He took another drag and perked his brows up at her.

Carver nearly choked on his smoke while Marian snorted. “Oh, _only_ a hundred gold. If I could get that much gold together, do you think I’d be over here begging for job?” She shook her head and dropped what was left of her cigarette and crushed it under her lowtown stomper, another perk left over from Athenriel, new boots… well, they _were_ new.

Varric sighed and shook his head at her. “Bah… we can get a crew together, pick up a few jobs, you’ll have it before you know it.”

“We?” Marian questioned as Carver put out his own cigarette, simply flicking it away from them.

Varric gave her a nod. “You can usually find me at the Hanged Man unless Bartrand drags me over here, which is next to never.”

Marian looked at Carver… who was silently telling her no. When she raised her brows at him in a _well…_ look, Carver made an audible groan. She returned her attention to Varric. “Alright.” She put her hand out towards the dwarf.

Varric wore a grin, the kind you give when you’ve gotten what you wanted. He took her hand and found it odd that, for a mage, which he knew she was, it was calloused. So, she wasn’t afraid of hard work, good. All of these things told him so much about both of them. He gave it a firm shake, smirking when her pupils flashed but she didn’t miss a beat. Yeah, he was a dwarf, try all you want lady… dwarves were resistant to magic. But he suspected she knew that and that rather, it was just a warning that while _he_ was resistant… perhaps his clothes weren’t? He internally shuddered at the thought. “Right.” He said from behind the grin.


	7. Chapter 7

Carver bitched the whole way back to Gamlen’s house. So much so that by the time they got there, Marian had a full on headache blooming between her temples. She shouldered her way in and groaned when he still didn’t let up. “Carver, enough!” She barked over her shoulder at him as she made a beeline for her bed.

Leandra was poised to ask how the meeting went but they came in fighting, again. She sighed heavily. Gamlen was ‘out’ and she’d been stuck inside all day with no one but Kable. “How.. how’d it go?” She chanced.

Carver changed direction and turned his attention to his Mother. “I’ll tell you how it went. Oh first, Bartrand straight up said no. Then! Oh then, his brother chased us down and Marian made a deal with _him_ to become _partners_ for this stupid expedition. Even though I said it was a bad idea, did she listen? No! Does she ever listen to me?! Fuck no. Now, we have to come up with a _hundred_ gold coin! How the hell are we going to do that?! All because we did good work for Athenriel, oh, sorry… because _she_ did good work for Athenriel!” He knew his ranting was misplaced but he was just so damned pissed off and tired of everyone looking to Marian, just because she was a mage, just because she was older. He had qualities too! He was a damn good soldier, a good fighter… but did that matter? Hell no.

Leandra looked wide eyed at her son. “Carver! Language!” She snapped at him. “I’m sure there’s more to it than that. Did you sign a contract or…”

Carver rolled his eyes and groaned. “Mother!” He turned away and went into their room. “She shook his hand. Which apparently is enough.” He huffed as he looked down at his sister.

Marian had shucked her coat but still had her boots on as she sat on her bed, hands clasped before her and forehead resting on them, elbows on her knees, staring at the bare floor beneath her boots. “Carver, just let it go.”

Carver stood over her and fumed. “No! I’m sick of this shit! I deserve some fucking recognition every now and then, I’m not invisible you know. I did just as much work as you did for that damned viper and are people talking about me? No! Are people putting in good words about me? No!”

Marian had her lips rolled as she was steadily shaking her head, feeling her temper rising. _Let it go, Carver… for fuck’s sake let it go._ She didn’t respond to him, she couldn’t, it’d just fuel him. She closed her eyes and hoped he’d just run out of steam.

But Carver wasn’t done yet, he was in a whole different realm of pissed off. “I was in servitude for a year too, ya know. I did a damn good job too. I followed orders better than you did, I was on time, I never dropped the ball, it’s not fucking fair!” He finally yelled down at her.

            Leandra stood in the living room shaking her head, silently praying that they would just stop it already. Just… stop the fighting. Enough was enough.

            That’s what did it. Marian stood up quickly, her pupils lit. “It’s not fair?! Are you fucking kidding me?” She gave Carver a look of disbelief. “They talk about me because I’m a fucking mage, Carver. Because I wiggle my fingers and fire happens. That’s why! Not because I’m actually valuable for _me_ but because of what I can do. That’s what it’s all about, that’s what it has _always_ been about. You think.. you really think that for one fucking second, just one second… that… anyone, any of them, could even tell you my first fucking name? Hell no. I’m nothing more than a weapon to them. Period. That’s all I will _ever_ be. At least they look at you like a damn person. So, don’t give me that whole it’s not fair bullshit.” She barked at him before snatching her coat back up, pulling it on and storming out, slamming the door behind her and stomping down the stairs.

            Leandra had reached for her when she stormed past but pulled back, frowning deeply. She walked back to the room and looked in at Carver. “Oh Carver…”

            Carver had straightened and stiffened when Marian yelled back at him. She hadn’t returned fire like that, so to speak, in a very long time. He was left stunned. He blinked a few times when he heard his Mother’s voice, he glanced over at her. “Why did she have to be born a mage?”

            Leandra sighed. “Carver…” She walked over to him and set a hand on his shoulder gently. “You need to give her a break. She’s trying.”

            Carver scoffed and turned away from her, ducking out from under her hand. “So am I.”

            Leandra felt like rolling her eyes but she didn’t. “I know that. And so does she. But… it’s different for her. It’s not harder… but it’s not easier either. You need to try and understand that.”

            Carver shook his head and sighed. “I… I gotta go to work.” He murmured before he just.. left. He didn’t want to understand… what good was magic when it couldn’t save the ones you loved? When it couldn’t bring a better life? It only brought heartache and ruin. He hated it. He worked three shifts that day and spent half his coin at the Rose in Hightown that night.

            Marian, meanwhile, had headed over to the Viscount’s Keep. The walk was long but she took it slow, strolling along to calm herself down. Carver was a selfish boy… but she got it. She understood. He deserved recognition and she tried to give it to him. But apparently it wasn’t enough. It took over an hour before she climbed the steps to the Keep Square. She craned her neck and looked up at the stonework and statues. She would never get used to the opulence of this place. She made her way through the square, down a corridor, passing at least ten government offices, magistrates and the like before she reached the faded door that had “Kirkwall City Guard” painted on it. She pulled it open and stepped on in, smirking as she saw Guard Brennen behind the intake desk. She tapped on the glass and gave a bit of a wave.

            “Hey Hawke, Aveline’s in the conference room.” She offered a smile to the Ferelden. She didn’t care for her chosen profession but, she had always kept her nose clean… officially. That was all that mattered.

            “Hey Brennen, thanks.” Marian heard the buzz of the lock releasing and she went through the second door, past the many benches that lined the first room, garnering a few glares from the people that were waiting for.. whatever it was that they were waiting for. Inmate release, meetings, whatever. Marian knew her way around the Guard station better than she knew her way around freaking Hightown itself, which was sad. She smirked as she poked her head into the conference room and found Aveline standing there talking to Guard Donnic. They were going over the latest duty roster and route reports. Marian just leaned on the door jam and watched with a knowing grin.

            Aveline was in midsentence when she noticed Marian in the doorway. “I uh.. we’ll… finish this later.” She said rather awkwardly.

            Donnic looked over his shoulder and then back to Aveline and nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He left, giving a nod to Marian. “Hawke.”

            “Donnic.” Marian drawled as he walked out, she turned and peeked at him behind the wall before looking back at Aveline. “Didn’t mean to… interrupt.”

            Aveline flushed slightly and rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever.” She set some papers down and put her hands on her hips, her tactical vest shifting. Her badge catching the overhead light. Wesley’s shield doing the same. Her sword on her hip, she felt right in uniform. She felt comfortable. “So, what do you want?”

            Marian walked in, hands in her pockets and kind of pivoted on her heels a bit. “Me? Nothin’. Just… checkin’ in.”

            Aveline looked at her carefully. “Uh huh.” She waited until Marian was closer before continuing. “I heard about the expedition. Watch out… Bartrand’s a real son of a bitch.”

            Marian raised a brow at her. “Spying on me again?”

            Aveline shrugged. “If you talked to me more, I wouldn’t have to.” She looked at her a bit closer. “What’s up?”

            Marian frowned and shrugged. “Nothing.”

            “Liar.” Aveline countered. “You okay?”

            “Not really.” Marian sighed heavily. “But I will be. Just wanted to see a friendly face, Maker knows there’s none at home right now.”

            Aveline sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You could always come and stay with me… in the barracks… you’d have to join the guard first though.”

            Marian barked out a laugh at that, leaning into her. “Yeah, okay.”

            Aveline likewise gave a little laugh. “Want me to come by when I get off?”

            Marian shook her head. “Na. Besides..” She stepped well out of her reach, backing towards the door. “You might be.. busy…” She wiggled her brows at her. “With… Donnic.”

            Aveline flushed again and made a face. “Oh… you!” She picked up a pen and threw it across the room at her, only for her to duck out of the way.

            Marian laughed a bit and gave a wave. “See ya.” It was likewise returned. Seeing Aveline always made her feel better. Once back out on the street and away from the Keep she lit up another smoke and made to step off the curb but was forced back by fear and a heart that went into her freaking throat as no less than four Templar SUV’s sped past without so much as a honk. Marian felt the tremble go down her spine as her hand shook. But that didn’t stop her from throwing up a hand in frustration, not like they’d stop. They never did. She grumbled under her breath before making her way across the busy Hightown street, a little more aware of her surroundings this time as she aimed for Lowtown and eventually the Hanged Man, she had business to discuss, if that damned dwarf was even where he said he was going to be.

            Varric was standing at the bar with one elbow on the worn wood, pivoting as he swayed, a mug of ale in his hand. Dwarven ale of course. Not that piss pour excuse called _beer_ that humans brewed and drank. This was dark ale that burned when it went down. He’d been at the bar for about an hour now, having _finally_ ditched his older brother. Norah, the waitress, had just walked past him and around the end to go back behind the bar when Varric noticed Hawke walk in, the sister… not the runt brother with the chip on his shoulder. He raised his brows with a smirk, knowing she’d be by. “Norah…” He was about to order a pitcher be brought to the corner booth around the wall where most of the tables were but he stalled out when he watched the strange woman nearly climb over the bar to speak with Corff. When Norah came back over to him with raised brows, he leaned towards her. “How well do you know that woman?” He gestured to Hawke.

            Norah glanced over to Corff and Marian. “Hawke? Not that well. She’s helped Corff out from time to time, off the books of course. She got his younger sister into the city about three months ago.” She finished wiping down the bar before pouring another three beers for a rowdy table in back. “She’s good people. Why do ya ask?”

            Varric chewed on that information as he watched on. Norah’s guarded tone caught his attention and he frowned at her with a shrug. “No reason, just curious.” Norah’s response was something along the lines of _yeah right_ before she walked off, tray balanced on her shoulder and palm.

            Marian had asked Corff where she could find a Varric Tethras, short dude with a big mouth. Corff had given her a hearty chuckle and said he was at the end of the bar, but he didn’t gesture. Corff, the epitome of discretion. Marian gave a nod over the loud music and boisterous clientele, snatching a handful of bar nuts, the actual fresh ones and not the stale ones Corff put out, these were the ones _he_ ate on. Naturally, he swatted at her with a damp white towel for that but she dodged it and popped a few of them into her mouth as she weaved through the crowd, making for Varric. She made it about half way before some unlucky chump thought he could cop a feel, which resulted in her slamming her foot down on his instep without even blinking or stopping for that matter. She just popped another bar nut in her mouth with a smirk and a chuckle that Varric swore he heard between his ears. Marian shouldered her way _back_ to the bar and took a sideways lean beside Varric with a raised brow. “Well… you said I could find you here.”

            Varric gave her a broad grin. “And here I am.” He took another swallow from his mug. “Come on, step into my office.” He pushed away and walked through the crowd, his wide shoulders more than parting a path to the corner booth around the wall on the other side, the booth was naturally the one in the back with the best view of the entire place. The music wasn’t as loud back here though it was still plenty audible. Years of keeping the Hanged Man afloat afforded him the prime spot, though… if one could call the torn booth seats prime… well, he liked it. The candle burning on the table was a nice touch, at least he thought so.

            Marian rolled her eyes before shoving off from the bar and followed, finishing her snack along the way. She let her eyes flow over the patrons, stopping on a few but never staying long. Once at the booth she slid in opposite him though there was plenty of space all around. She smirked and shook her head, leaning back and spreading her legs just so one was under the table but one was still out the end of the bench, an arm thrown up and over the back of the seat. “And here I thought I already saw your office.” She toyed with a stray napkin that had been thrown down on the table at some point, folding the corners this way and that.

            Varric lounged in his own way, but not as comfortable as she. He had to smirk to himself at that. Though, he was pretty darn sure that she only appeared comfortable. Just like she only appeared to stroll through the streets… how she almost always appeared to be bored or disinterested with the conversation, even when she was anything but. Damn, he’d love to sit in on a game of Wicked Grace with this one. Her tells are almost nonexistent. “Bah, that was my unofficial office. This is where all my real work is done.” He gestured with his hand over the booth, his few rings flashing in the low light. “So… what are you drinking?” He held a hand up, grabbing Norah’s attention before she could disappear back to the bar.

            Marian shook her head. “Nothing.” She was still studying him, trying to figure out what his angle was. Almost no one helped anyone in this town without promise of future payment or something to that effect.

            “Seriously, I’m buying.” Norah strolled up to the table and he ordered another ale and he looked at Marian expectedly.

            Marian lifted a few fingers in greeting to Norah. “Usual.” Norah just smirked, nodded, and walked off. Marian returned her attention to Varric. “Alright, what’s the deal here?” She leaned forward and gestured with her hands between them. “What is it you _really_ want?”

            Varric blinked at her order. How in the hell had never seen her before? He _lived_ here for fuck’s sake. She must have never gone past the bar area. He just shrugged it off before she drew his sole attention, he finished the rest of his ale and shrugged. “I want a lot of things, but I doubt you’d be able to give me half of those things. As far as _our_ deal. It’s simple. We need an investment partner, and not one that’s going to stab us in the back. You need coin… that’s a huge motivator but… you don’t need it _so_ bad that you’d betray us for it. Plus, you’re a dog lord, and even though people here like to spit on that, you Fereldens have this insane work ethic.”

            Marian gave him a droll look at his explanation. “That’s it?”

            Varric nodded. “That’s it.” Norah returned and set another ale in front of him, taking away his now empty mug. She put a glass of actually clear water in front of Marian and left. He looked at the water in front of Hawke, blinked and shrugged slightly. “Now, about that crew…”

            Marian thanked Norah quietly before she took a long pull of her water, setting it back down she nodded. “Yeah… about that. Who did you have in mind?”

            Varric smirked, damn, she wasn’t giving him any information was she? Whatever reason she had for ordering _water_ at a damned bar, she wasn’t going to give it to him. He pointed to a table on the other side of the room where a card game was in full swing. “See the pirate, her name’s Isabella. She’s a _Rivainy_ , but pretty good in a pinch.”

            Marian followed his gesture and gave a side to side tilt with her head before shrugging. “Sure, why not. Because working with pirates never goes wrong.” She took another long pull of her water and glanced back at him. “Who else?”

            Varric smirked at her comment before shrugging. “Haven’t the foggiest.”

            Marian stared at him for a minute before blinking slowly. “Wow.”

            “What?” Varric stared back, his brows going down with the question.

            Marian frowned and shook her head. “Oh, nothing. I just thought… when you said crew that… ya know, you meant… crew. Not jolly band of three.”

            “Four.” Varric corrected.

            Marian looked confused. “Three. You, me, and the pirate.”

            “And your brother.” Varric added on.

            Marian made a face. “Ugh.” She looked back to the crowd and finished her drink, setting the empty glass back on the table. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

            Varric made a mental note, finally she gave him something. So, things weren’t copacetic between her and her brother. “But, you didn’t warn me.”

            Marian rolled her eyes. “Consider yourself warned.”

            Varric couldn’t help but chuckle. She hadn’t actually warned him about anything other than… warning him. “Alright. Now, I do have something else we need to check into. I hear stories of a gray warden hidin’ out in Darktown.”

            Marian raised a brow at that. “Along with the gators and fairies I bet.”

            Varric glared at her. “Truly. He’s supposed to have maps of some deep roads entrances around the marches. We need those maps, Hawke.” He leaned forward, all conspiracy theory like.

            Marian couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Wait… wait… so you’re telling me… that not only do you lot not have enough coin for this expedition, you don’t even know how to get in?”

            Varric sat back and sucked on a molar while she took on that chastising tone. “Oi… we have a way in… _I_ would just like a different one.”

            Marian shook her head. “Cracker jack operation.” She muttered under her breath before sighing loudly. “Alright, how can we find ‘em?”

            Varric narrowed his eyes at her comment but let it slide. “He’s got a clinic in Darktown. Apparently, our boy is a healer.” Varric leaned back and took a long pull of his ale, watching her from over the rim of his mug. He watched how her eyes moved over him and back out to the crowd, how the candle light really made the gold in her irises flash, damned if her last name was on point. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear those were in fact, the eyes of a hawk. He watched as she mulled it over, chewing on the inside of her lower lip as she drummed her trimmed nails on the table.

            “Fine. Well, no time like the present.” She said easily before getting up and adjusting the collar of her coat, flipping it a bit and stretching her shoulders slightly. “I’d say grab your pirate but she’s probably going to be busy the rest of the night.”

            Varric nearly coughed on his ale when she all but hopped up, he set it down. “Whoa, easy there Ferelden. We don’t have to go _right now_.” He saw a flash of a staff head beneath her coat when she adjusted it. She was armed. Damn… so was he, small world. “We should just wait until we can get both Rivainy and your brother.”

            Marian looked down at him with a slightly annoyed, slightly confused look. “Why?” The question came out clipped.

            Varric blinked at her. “Because Darktown isn’t exactly the best place for a late night stroll.”

            Marian let her shoulders sag and her knees bend a bit as her head went back in a rather annoyed manner. “Ugh.” She straightened and looked down at him. “Don’t worry, little man… I’ll protect you.”

            Varric’s features hardened at her comment, he got up with a huff, jerking his own coat back in place. “Lots of words can be used to describe me, Ferelden… but little ain’t one of ‘em.” He shook his head at her before knocking back the very last bit of his ale, only a few drops but hey, every last bit helped. “Let’s go.” He led the way back out to the street, fishing out a smoke of his own, a flick of his lighter and ah, sweet relief. He looked over his shoulder as Hawke stepped out and pretty much did the same, though he noticed she needed no lighter. He couldn’t help but smirk. Then she started walking away and he let out a whistle. “Oi… where ya going?”

            Marian pulled the smoke from her lips and turned quickly. “Yo?!” It came out instantly, as if anyone had called her. She looked back at Varric like he was insane. “To… Darktown.” She gave a bit of a dip and gestured with half her body towards the general direction of their destination.

            Varric smirked before walking over to his bike. The motorcycle was one of a kind, not to mention just a beautiful bike all on its own. Lots of shine, extended front, so-soft leather seat, loud and proud, with an ever present subtle blue glow around, under, and through the entire thing. What was usually the fuel cell tank was nothing more than a cover for the lyrium core. On it? Painted in delicate print, _Bianca_. He swung a leg over and shifted the bike up, tucked the kick stand away and finished his smoke, flicking it away. “Come on.” That single invite had his brain ten kinds of fucked up. No one rode Bianca but him and, well… one other person but that was… complicated. So basically, never. And did he just invite this human like it was no big thing? Yes… yes he did. What the actual fuck. But it was too late now. He just cleared his throat and patted the seat behind him. “We’ll get there faster.” As if that was the reason, wait… that _was_ the reason, the only damn reason.

            Marian didn’t look quite so convinced. She walked up wearing a look that said just that, leaning away from the bike slightly. “Is this thing safe?” She felt like poking at it with a stick.

            Varric raised a brow at her. “Of course it’s safe.” Was she serious right now? She had no idea what a big deal this was.

            Marian shook her head slowly. “….Eh… if you say so.” She gathered up her duster around her hips and swung a leg over, climbing on and settling behind him, tucking the leather beneath her legs so it wouldn’t get caught up in anything. Because that would just be her freaking luck. “Where… uh… hands, feet…” She was shifting around and looking for somewhere to put said appendages.

            Varric’s spine stiffened when she sat behind him but he forced himself to just chill. He pointed just behind his leg to a set of pegs that had almost never been used, except a few times. “Feet go there. And you just.. hang on.” He said the last quickly as he hoisted himself up, one foot on the kick and slammed it down, the bike roaring to life, literally. The blue glow flashed up brighter and hummed in time with the idle. He gave it some energy and it growled a few times. He glanced behind him as he walked the bike off the sidewalk and onto the street. The echo around them unmistakable but, the people here were used to it. He felt her arms go around his abdomen and her hands clasp one another, the hold was rigid and awkward. _That makes two of us, honey._ He thought in his head before he just gunned it and took off in a whirl of roaring chops. Her hold tightened but only from the force of being thrown back, she didn’t yell nor scream. But he felt her thighs tense beside and behind him. He smirked at that, for some reason… knowing that this at least got her attention, that _something_  affected her… well he found it funny.


	8. Chapter 8

Marian put her feet on the pegs and instantly knew that she did not like this whole motorcycle thing _at all_. No. Just no. She was forced to put her arms around him and that just… it wasn’t right. She _almost_ jumped when he started the damn thing and she could feel the lyrium beneath and around her. She pitched her head to the side as she tried to still her mind, ease her body… calm _her_ magic, even though the lyrium was contained, well… the lyrium in her blood and the lyrium currently drumming beneath her were like magnets to one another, it wasn’t exactly comfortable. She got thrown back and damned if she didn’t have to hold onto him harder, which just sucked big time. She tensed around him and just wished she had fucking walked. They raced through the streets, far faster than they needed to go. He was doing it on purpose, she knew it. Asshat. By the time they got down to the entrance to Darktown she was thoroughly done with this whole bike thing. He rolled to a stop and she got off before he could even put the kickstand down.

            Varric told himself the only reason he went that fast was to mess with her. But it was mostly because it freaked him out, to some degree, to have someone else on his bike. Once they got there, she jumped right off and he had to give a bit of a laugh. He kicked it down and climbed off, still smirking. “What’s wrong, Hawke? Too fast for you?”

            Marian shot him a look as she flicked her coat back around properly. “Too quick to be satisfying.” She said with a perk of a brow before walking over to the tunnel entrance to Darktown.

            Varric’s smirk instantly vanished as he grumbled under his breath, there was never any danger of it being stolen, thus was how special it truly was. “If you had loosened up, maybe it would have been better.” He countered.

            Marian gave a bit of a snort. “Oh, I highly doubt that. I’m not sure I trust your equipment.”

            Varric had that look of _oh no she didn’t_ on his face. “It hasn’t let anyone down yet.” He shot back as he followed her into the undercity. His eyes still adjusting to the low light as they walked through Maker only knew what was covering the ground.

            Marian shrugged as she ducked under something, she knew it wasn’t a vine but she could freaking hope, couldn’t she? “There’s a first time for everything.”

            Varric rolled his lips as his ire only increased, especially as he realized what was actually going on. He just kept his mouth shut until they got through the tunnel and came out the other side, deep underground. He looked around and gestured for her to follow him. “His clinic’s supposed to be in the southwest corner.”

            Marian nodded as she followed, she didn’t stroll here. No, she walked with purpose. Not directly behind him but not beside him either. The network of tunnels that led to really, just wider tunnels, was a maze of filth. The homeless and the destitute, and of course, those who didn’t want to be found. “So, does this gray warden have a name?”

            Varric nodded in a distracted way. “Anders.”

            Marian raised a brow at that. No last name. Huh, oh well. They made it to the clinic with no incident, luckily. Marian gave the place a once over and felt like she needed a tonic just from looking at it. Nothing more than corrugated sheet metal that had been pieced together, tattered curtains that made up doors and vinyl covered cots were what awaited those who walked inside. She stilled and watched on as a healer… a mage… and obviously the one they were looking for… worked on a patient. A small boy with worried parents. She recognized that form of magic right away.

            Varric was standing beside Marian as he watched on. The open display of magic made him uncomfortable, not because it could actually hurt him but because it was just… not done in Kirkwall. No wonder this guy was hiding down here in Darktown. But… as the boy came to and sat up, embraced by his parents who rained their thanks down upon the healer and then were assured that payment was not necessary and left… Varric had to approve. Once they were gone he glanced back to the healer, who had his back to them. Varric cleared his throat before speaking. “We’re looking for a gray warden? Goes by the name Anders...” He didn’t get anything else out.

            Anders turned on them with his staff at the ready, already extended and his eyes a vibrant white, his voice dual toned. “I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?!”

            Varric immediately drew his revolvers and leveled them at the man while Marian’s staff was palmed. Varric glanced at her and then the man. But Marian was the one to speak. “We mean you no harm, healer. But if you force my hand… we’ll have a go.” Her pupils flashed as the tips of her fingers ignited down by her coat. Varric looked back at this Anders person for his response.

            Anders blinked a few times before straightening, his staff collapsing on itself before he set it back on his belt, the knob at the end an odd looking orb that had been strapped seemingly by wooden webbing to the twisted staff. “Did the wardens send you? I’m not going back. Those bastards made me get rid of my cat.”

            Varric took a breath and put up his crossbows. “We’re not with the wardens, we just want your maps.”

            Marian closed her fist, extinguishing the flames as she put her staff away, clipping it beneath her coat. “Wait… you had a cat while you were a warden? Seriously?”

            Anders was poised to answer the dwarf but the woman got his attention. He let his eyes flow over her before giving a bit of a smile. “Yes. They’re noble beasts. His name was Sir Pounce-a-lot, he was a gift from a friend.”

            Marian felt his eyes travel over her body like a snake and she shuddered but didn’t show it. “Sir Pounce-a-lot… huh.” She gave that sort of frown and tilt of her head. “Whatever floats your boat I guess. Now… as my esteemed partner has already mentioned, we hear tell that you have some maps of the deep roads. Since you’ve no interest in ever being a warden again…” She shrugged, holding her hands out a bit. “Might as well get rid of them, hmm?”

            Varric watched as Anders… well, checked her out. And, he didn’t really like it all that much. He just shook his head and listened as she gave their pitch, it was a valid point. He looked back at Blondie here to see if he’d take the bait.

            Anders ran the side of his index finger along his lower lip as he mulled it over. “True… I never want to see the blighted deep roads again.” He began pacing a lazy path over to her. “Though… a favor for a favor?” He gestured much the same way she had. “Seems fair, don’t it?”

            Marian felt like leaning away from him, but she didn’t. _Of course he wanted something_. “Depends on the favor.” She said with a bit of a smirk.

            Anders took a step further and looked down her backside though with that coat there wasn’t much to see, even if it was tailored, backing up he perked a brow up at her. “Depends on how bad you want them.”

            Varric narrowed his eyes at this gray warden mage dickhead and cleared his throat rather purposefully, drawing his attention. He didn’t say anything but he was pretty sure the hard look he was giving him said enough. _Back the fuck off._ He _hated_ it when men thought that women would just pay with that kind of currency, like it was fucking okay. Granted… it also bothered him on another level but he ignored that part of it. “Just tell us your price.” He drawled out.

            Marian had been poised and ready to light this fucker up when Varric caught his attention. Which… was probably a good thing. Still… just one little kick? Just a little one? She was playing it out in her head, the likelihood that she could hurt this guy _and_ they could get the maps. She kept coming up with nada. Dammit. So, she just waited for his answer.

            Anders shrugged. “Well, I have this friend who needs a one way ticket out of the Gallows. He’s the reason I’m in Kirkwall. I’ve set it up for him to meet me in the Chantry when the time is right. All you have to do is cover us.” He held a hand out. “Do that and the maps are yours. Simple.”

            Marian blinked at him. “Oh, is that all. Just… get a mage out of Kirkwall. A _known_ mage. Well…” She looked to Varric. “I say we just start digging our own fucking entrance to the damn Deep Roads.”

            Anders didn’t look amused. “It’s not a complicated job. In and out. I’m the one taking all the risk. You’re just… a glorified armed escort. If the Templars catch us, you can just bail.”

            “And you get caught with our maps and we’re up shit creek sans a paddle.” Varric tossed in.

            “I’ll leave them somewhere safe and I’ll leave instruction should something happen. A deal’s a deal. Take it, or leave it. These are my terms.” Anders crossed his arms over his chest.

            Varric looked at Marian who was giving him the same _no_ face that he’d seen Carver give _her_ earlier. And just like she did to Carver, he looked at Anders and nodded. “Agreed.”

            Anders nodded. “Tomorrow night then, ten o’clock, at the Chantry. I’ll be waiting by the side entrance. Don’t be late.”

            Marian rubbed at her face before just walking away and heading back out. She didn’t even wait for Varric, they were about half way to topside before he caught up with her.

            Varric finally caught up with her, damn she could move when she wanted to, and she hadn’t even been running. It wasn’t like her legs were longer than his, in fact, he was the one who actually had an inch or two on _her_. He snatched her elbow when she ignored his hissing. “Hey, Hawke.”

            Marian jerked out of his hold and turned on him with a viciously guarded look. “What.” She ground out, fire snapping in her eyes… literally.

            Varric held his hand out and looked at her with a certain amount of shock. “What’s your deal? We need those maps or this expedition is a no go.”

            Marian just shook her head at him. “You do know it’ll go south right? I mean, shit like this always does. And when it does, because it _will_ , we’ll end up fighting off Templars. And…” She licked her lips and shook her head again.

            Varric took a steady breath and reached for her shoulder, grabbing it easily, far too easily if he thought about it. “Hey… if it goes belly up, I’ve got your back on this. We’re partners, remember? Even against Templars, they don’t fucking scare me.”

            Marian lost most of her momentum with the hand on her shoulder and his words but regained it all back with the last. “And that’s the problem. They _should_ scare you.” She walked out from under his hand and made her way back up to street level, taking a deep breath, pulling in some fresher air.

            Varric stepped out into the night not a moment after her, he’d thought about what she said and he still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He knew that Templars hunted mages, that was a given. But… they took them to the circle. Period. Right? But the way she said the last… had him… twisted up a bit. “Why?”

            Marian had just lit up a cigarette and was exhaling the bitter smoke when he spoke. “Why what?”

            “Why should I be afraid of them?” Varric asked, doing the same as she.

            Marian looked at the end of her cigarette and seriously considered telling him. Which was weird in itself. But she just shook her head instead. “They’re dangerous.” She looked up at the smog covered sky. “They don’t care who you are… if you stand between them and their target, you _will_ get hurt.” She looked at him with all the seriousness of her words. “No one escapes the Templars… at least not for very long.” She said the last quietly before turning away from him and starting to stroll away.

            Varric looked at her carefully. He knew there was more than what she was telling him but he didn’t push it. Hell, he’d only known her a day. But he already felt this odd connection, this tether that said… they were going to be something. He’d felt it earlier. He still couldn’t figure out if it was good or bad. But he was just rolling with it. “Hey Hawke, need a ride home?”

            Marian just threw up two fingers and kept on walking, a plume of smoke rising above her.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Carver was none too pleased about their task for the evening. But Marian explained it to him in detail and expressed that she wasn’t fucking happy about it either. She offered that if he could find a replacement for himself, she’d be down. But he couldn’t. So… at ten that night, he stood alongside his sister, skull cap in place, his old gear from Athenriel in place as well and looking actually quite scary, his broadsword securely in place on his back. Marian wore what she usually did though her jeans were exchanged for her leathers and like him, nothing but black. She looked at Varric with a raised brow. He wore the same kind of clothes he always did. Anders showed up… in they went… and the shit hit the fucking fan, just like she’d told Varric it would. By the time they stopped running, they were in Darktown, and Marian was throwing Anders into his clinic, thoroughly pissed off.

            “What the fuck!?” Marian all but screamed at him, though she didn’t pull her staff, she damn sure wanted to. “Explain yourself!”

            Anders landed hard against one of his exam tables but he righted himself just as fast, never let it be said he couldn’t take a… throw. He looked between her, a very pissed off Carver, and an equally ticked off Varric. “Okay. Look… it’s not… it’s different. I helped a friend awhile ago… his name is Justice. And… he’s a spirit.”

            Carver sneered and turned away. “You deal with this shit, I’m going home.” He ground out to Marian before he left, a slight limp to his walk.

            Marian nodded to Carver before pinning Anders with a glare. “You mean to say… okay… hang on, let me get this straight.” She pinched at the bridge of her nose, the sarcasm coming on thick. “Just so we _all_ understand here. You… willingly let a _spirit_ inhabit your body?”

            Anders nodded. “Yes. There was no other way to help him, he was trapped here—“

            Marian held a hand up sharply, her eyes closed as she turned slightly away. “I don’t care! Oh my god, I really don’t.” Her voice came out pitchy. “Just give us. The damn. Maps. Look, it sucks about your friend but we did our part, we got you in, we got you the **fuck** out… and back home, which wasn’t even part of the deal, that was like… a… a… bonus! Now hand them over.”

            Varric had kept quiet the entire time, he didn’t even know what to fucking say. He was beyond pissed, more so about the whole abomination thing than the Templar thing, though that had caught him off guard too. They had fought with a ruthlessness he’d never seen, and damned if they hadn’t attacked him just for fucking being there. His back was burning from the sword slice he took and he just wanted to go the fuck home.

            Anders had straightened when Marian cut him off and laced into him. He just nodded with a twisted look and went over to his desk and fished them out before throwing the rolled maps at her. “There. Now go.” He continued to glare at her as she made her way towards the door but he couldn’t help throw the last at her, she’d seen what they’d done to Karl. “Ya know, I thought as another mage, you might give a shit.”

            Marian caught the maps and started to leave before he went off on that crap. She turned but found a thick arm around her abdomen. “Ya know what?! Fuck you, Anders. You and your damn cat.” She was pulled out of his clinic and finally turned around with a hiss. “Fucker.” She cursed as she tucked the maps into her coat’s inside pocket. She nearly tripped but felt that arm around her again and she leaned on him. She glanced slightly up at Varric and just shook her head.

            Varric had to pull her out of there, he didn’t even know what she would have done. But they got the maps, that’s all that mattered. Then he helped her walk, each step was excruciating but he made it to the street level, where he was beyond grateful that he’d had the foresight to leave his bike, knowing that this was where they’d end up once the night was done, one way or another. He cursed when they made it over to his bike and he tried to throw a leg over and almost fell, stumbling he arched his back in obvious pain. “Dammit!” He barked out as he hissed.

            Marian’s hand went out to steady him and when he did his ouch-walk she saw the slice in his coat. “Shit.” She grabbed hold of the collar. “Let me..” When he wouldn’t be still she jerked on it. “Let me see, dammit.” He finally stilled and she shifted it off his shoulder just enough to see the red slice in his gray shirt and the streaking that was going down his back. It wasn’t that deep but it was enough. “Fuck.”

            “What?!” Varric tried not to sound panicked but damn!

            Marian smirked and pulled his coat back up. “It’s not that bad… but it went in a few inches. Come on.” She sighed and eyed his bike as if it had a disease before she stepped up to it and slung a leg over stiffly for the pain it caused her and saddled up, her hands going to the grips.

            Varric sighed and then watched her with a blank look. “It won’t start for anyone but---“ He was interrupted by the roar of the engine that damn near scared the shit out of him. “How the hell did you do that?!” He yelled over it as he came up to her.

            Marian gave him a shrug, she honestly had no fucking idea. When he tried to throw a leg over she grabbed his arm and steadied him, his bark of discomfort came and she helped him get on the rest of the way. She yelled over her shoulder. “Hang on, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing!”

            Varric set his boots on the pegs and sent up a prayer as he wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the feeling of her there. “Fuck me.” He ground out as he wore a look of supreme dread.

            Marian kicked up the stand and kept one boot on the street as she spun it around to go the other way, Varric damn near squeezed the life out of her. She made a _oh shit_ face but got it to calm down just as easily as it freaked out on her. They made it back to the Hanged Man, not as fast as he liked to go but not slow either. He didn’t loosen his hold on her either. She popped up on the curb and killed the engine, set the stand and he all but fell off. It was a good thing she did drive though, each turn had lit his back up like fire, he didn’t even want to think what it would have felt like if he had to steer, he probably would have wrecked.

            Varric rolled off, grimacing for how it hurt his back. But he couldn’t pass up this opportunity, he palmed the cement and _almost_ kissed it. “Thank the Maker.” He groaned as he got to his feet.

            Marian narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. “Ha, ha… very funny.” She managed to get off the bike without falling but damn if it didn’t twinge more than a bit. One of those Templar bastards had slammed her into a wall, her hip taking the brunt of the hit. “Ow.. ow, ow..” She said repeatedly as she hobbled over to the rot iron railing in front of the bar.

            Varric straightened as much as he could and made way not to the bar’s entrance but to the stairs off to the side. He watched her with a raised brow. “Can’t you just… heal yourself or something?” He said the last in a hissing whisper, one could never be too careful.

            Marian snorted slightly. “I’m not that kind of… person.” She stalled and added on.

            Varric gave a kind of sage looking nod. “Well come on up.” He gave her a bit of a wave. “I can’t drive right now and you can’t walk… and you are _not_ taking my bike home with you.”

            Marian didn’t look convinced but he did have a point. She followed. He led her up half a flight of stairs which was _oh so much fun_. Unlocked a lift and up they went to the third floor of the warehouse that the Hanged Man was in. It was on the bottom floor, their other rooms were on the second floor and apparently, Varric either owned or rented the entire top floor. His loft style place was big, much bigger than it needed to be anyway. When he opened the lift he continued on inside, the big divided pane windows letting in enough light for him to see his way around.

            Varric threw his keys down on the big everything table and made for one of the oil lamps. Once lit, he started easing his coat off and hissing the entire time. “Ah… fuck.” His loft was broken up by spaces, though no full walls, not even for the bathroom. From the lift you went straight into the whatever area, with the everything table. That table had chairs of all different styles tucked under and around it. Past that, the kitchen… unused and unkept, took up one small corner of the place. He ate out a lot. A sort of wall broke up the loft, about eight feet tall and went about half way across from the opposite side of the kitchen but didn’t quite hit the other side of the loft. Past the kitchen was the card table and chairs. If you kept going, around the wall, you’d hit his bedroom with a bed way bigger than it needed to be, which was against the incomplete wall. Opposite that, beneath the many windows, was his sitting space. An insanely comfortable chair and a coffee table, a shepherd’s hook that an oil lamp dangled from and a stack of papers that needed addressing. Then there was a pretty big curtain that hung from a pipe, and behind that was the bathroom, fully equipped with a tub and shower. Past _that_ there were some drafting tables, an area that he generally didn’t let people go. Around the _other_ side of that odd wall was just a bunch of stuff. Bartrand insisted that they keep all this crap from Orzammar and naturally, he got saddled with a lot of it. There was only one actually room in the whole place.. and it was pretty much just a storage room, it was where he kept anything he didn’t want kept out in the open… which was pretty much anything that he deemed valuable.

            Marian did a quick look around and then just looked back at him. “Here..” She took hold of his collar and eased his coat off the rest of the way. “Needle and thread?” She asked.

            “Yeah.. it’s on the counter, over there.. uh.. brown basket.” He pulled out a chair from the everything table and took a seat, straddling the back of it and sighing heavily. It’d been a long time since he’d needed stitches. He watched as Marian limped over to the kitchen and smirked at her cussing as she tried to lift empty paper take-out cartons without causing an avalanche and then finally she just swept them all to the side while half of them fell to the floor. “Oi… I had that organized.”

            Marian ignored him as she brought the basket back to the table with her. “Yeah well, now it’s alphabetized.” She commented as she set the basket down and then pulled her coat off, laying it over another chair and shoving up the sleeves of her thermal. She plucked a curved silverite needle and some thick thread from the basket and set them on the table. “Alcohol?”

            Varric chuckled at her comment and immediately wished he hadn’t. As the adrenalin was wearing off, the pain was ramping up. “Yes please.” He commented before groaning a bit. “On the shelf.” He nodded to the wall. He glanced and watched her limp over and grab it, unscrewing the lid on her way back over to him. “Shit.”

            Marian nodded. “Yep. Alright, shirt off.” She gestured before she set the bottle on the table.

            Varric smirked again. “Thought you’d never a..a..ask!” The last came out jarred as she started pulling his shirt off and none too gentle either. “A-ey, easy.” He grumbled before leaning back against the chair but flinched as he tried to jerk away from her. “What the…” He felt her fingers tucking his shirt back into his waistband and then he clinched down on the back of the chair, his brow digging into the wood. “Mother fucker…” She’d just poured some of the liquor on his wound.

            Marian ignored his physic as she punished him for that comment, smirked when he tried to evade her precautionary measures and then made a wincing face when she sterilized the wound. “Easy…” She said low before picking up his shirt and mopping up the excess from his back, avoiding the wound, his muscles trembling from the pain. “Here.” She held the bottle out to him, which he took gladly.

            Varric was in a whole different world of hurt as the liquor stung like a bitch! He was cussing her heavily in his head and didn’t even hear her _easy_. Or he would have barked something not so nice back. But he did get the offer and he took it, a big swallow down that was followed with a ragged breath. “Tell me you’re done.” He knew that she wasn’t… but he could hope. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as she plucked the needle and it turned red hot in her hand… in fact her whole hand went that color before it dimmed, and he was sure the other one did the same, or at least close, as he felt the skin around the wound heat up. “Convenient.” He commented before taking down another big swallow of alcohol and turned around.

            Marian smirked at him as she threaded the needle. “It has it’s perks.” She pulled the lamp closer to them and bent over his back shaking her head. “Be still.” She splayed her hand on his back. “Don’t stretch…” She chastised as he did just that when she touched him. He relaxed and she began stitching up the stab wound. He jerked only once and hissed but he was still the rest of the time. It took longer than she’d like but she finally tied the knot and singed the end. “Alright… you’re done.”

            Varric was whispering under his breath as his chin trembled the entire time, damned if that didn’t hurt like a mother fucker but he was grateful she at least didn’t have ice cold hands, that would have sucked. He took a shallow breath when it was finally over and sat up, taking another pull from the bottle and wiping his mouth before standing up and turning around to sit, but he at least remembered not to lean back. He let out a heated breath from the alcohol and set the bottle on the table. “Alright, your turn.”

            Marian blinked down at him and shook her head as she put the supplies back in the basket. “No stitches needed.”

            Varric shook his head at her. “Oh hell no… nut uh… I showed you mine. Let me see.”

            Marian shook her head at him. “It’s nothing, really.”

            Varric leaned back slightly and raised his brows at her. “Uh.. bullshit.”

            Marian sighed and narrowed his eyes at him before jerking at the snaps on her belt roughly, likewise with her leathers before she started to jerk them down but visibly tensed, swayed slightly, and slowly eased them down off her hip and about a quarter down her thigh to reveal a nasty looking abrasion that was already starting to bruise. She braced one hand on the table, taking in a few deep breaths as the edges of her vision tried to go all wonky on her, dammit all.

            Varric gave her a smartass look in return but then sucked in a breath sharply at the wound. “Ouch… yeah…” He didn’t even think, he just reached and tried to frame it with his hands to turn her more towards the light to get a better look at it. “That’s gonna—“ He jerked his hands away and blinked before casting a confused look up at her.

            Marian’s inner monolog went something like this… _ow… ow… sonofabitch! Ow… ow… what the? Okay, that’s enough of that._ And she pulled her leathers back up and secured them without so much as a downwards glance. “Now that you’ve successfully gotten into my pants…” She stepped away and plucked her coat from the back of the chair and swung it around, pulling it on. “I’ve gotta go.”

            Varric _almost_ leaned back all the way, but he didn’t. He wasn’t _that_ dumb. He was also extremely perceptive… but you didn’t even have to be to see the giant iron wall that was around this particular human. She didn’t complain about her injury nor did she seek aid nor apparently welcome it. Not like he could do anything about it but… well, he had ice? And now she _had_ to go? He did smirk at her comment though. “And here I thought we were just getting to the good part.”

            Marian made an _eh_ face as she stepped into the lift, her limp still visible and painfully obvious. “You’ll just have to go on without me.” She feigned an apologetic tone and expression to match, holding a hand out with a bit of a shrug as she slammed down the lever and descended. Once she was out of sight she nearly fell against the metal wall and took a ragged breath, one hand braced around her injured hip. “Son of a bitch..” Her rough whisper was the only comfort she’d welcome in the near darkness. Once at ground level, she dropped the maps on the floor and sent the lift back up before she made her way back out onto the street, fished out a cigarette, lit up… and jogged a few hopping type steps towards the street just in time to snatch the back handle of a delivery truck, lift herself up onto the back bumper where no less than three other city dwellers were already hitching a free ride.

            Varric watched her go from the window, his brow creased as he tried to process the evening. He jerked suddenly, his eyes closing. “The maps! Dammit.” He shook his head at himself. He’d have to track her down tomorrow and get them. He sighed heavily and went back over to the everything table just as his lift was making its return back upstairs, he blinked at that. She must have sent it back up… then he gave a hearty chuckle. Because of course, sitting there on the rust colored floor of the shady elevator… were the maps. He went over and picked them up, still smirking and shaking his head. He tossed them on the table and made for the bathroom, he knew getting those stitches wet probably wasn’t the best idea but he needed a freaking shower. As he stood there under the cold spray of not quite clear Lowtown water, he was only half paying attention as he washed. Most of his mind was still trying to figure her out. She was a mage… but she didn’t immediately stand beside other mages, like a lot of apostates he’d heard about. She obviously had history with Templars and dealing with them in anyway put her in a different realm of panic. He’d seen that at the Chantry. She was careful with her magic, but not ashamed of it. He’d also witnessed that tonight. When the Templars showed up, she’d cursed loudly but she hadn’t let loose a single spell, though he knew she had her staff with her. She’d fought with a set of daggers, she wasn’t flawless with them but she wasn’t without skill. He saw it in her eyes though, just there beneath the surface, her magic ready and waiting, but she didn’t dare. Away from Templar eyes though? She obviously had no problem displaying it, though she still did so discretely. She fought hard to protect those she was loyal to.. and even those she was paid to be loyal to. That Ferelden work ethic. He got out of the shower and began drying off, still deep in thought. The tension between her brother and her seemed… odd. As if it hadn’t always been that way and not in the _they were close when they were kids_ kind of way either. The word in the network he managed and dealt with was that Marian had been a damned good smuggler for Athenriel and that viper even offered her a permanent position, that would have brought a lot of coin. But Marian had turned her down and surprisingly, they’d parted as allies. Rumors abound that the Red Iron wanted her and her brother when they first arrived, but Marian opted for the smuggling ring… nice to know she wasn’t a cold blooded killer. He pulled on some sleep pants and extinguished the oil lamps before climbing into bed, hissing and shifting around until he figured out the only position that didn’t hurt was on his stomach. He took a deep breath and tried to just let the night flow out of him… but questions still plagued him.

            Marian got home surprisingly quick, thanks to the delivery truck. That was a lucky break indeed. She shouldered her way in awkwardly for the hip that was injured was the one she usually used to help open Gamlen’s sticky door. The house was dark. No surprise there. But Kable was sitting right there waiting for her. Marian gave him a gentle smile as she shut the door, locked it and limped over to him. The mabari whimpered in response, sniffing at her leg and looking up at her with such concern. Marian shushed him quietly. “Nothing that won’t heal.” She reassured him in a low whisper as she looked over on the kitchen counter and frowned slightly, feeling her stomach cramp up at her. For some reason, Mother always assumed she ate out like Carver did… but Leandra never did put two and two together. How could she eat out when she used nearly all of her coin to cover the expenses here? Which included food. She just sighed and resigned herself to another hungry night. But damned if that didn’t chase away any positivity she had left in her. She just shook her head and limped to the bedroom, slipping in and making way over to her bed, taking her coat off as she went and throwing it over the footboard before easing herself down with a silent gasp. Kable followed, of course, he sat at her feet but inched closer with a worried look, his ears down as he whined. Marian shook her head at him before leaning over and untying her boots. Kable gingerly took the soles in his mouth and pulled them off, setting them almost under the bed. While he did that she leaned back and undid her pants, hissing as she did everything she could to make it less painful, which of course did nothing. She finally gave up and had to stand, easing them down and letting them pool. Kable whined again. “Shh..” She nearly fell when she stepped out of them and if it hadn’t been for the mabari’s impressive stature, she would have. She sort of crawled back onto the bed, her injured leg damn near useless, one arm thrown over Kable for stability.

He followed her on until she was laying there on her side, hurt hip up. She reached behind her and pulled the wool blanket up as Kable nipped at the hem, trying to help the rest of the way. He sat down but kept his paws on the edge of the bed, setting his chin on them as he looked at her, wishing there was something more he could do as he watched tears slide out the corners of her eyes from the pain. He also felt like growling low in his throat for the anger it ignited within him. Didn’t these humans see how hard she worked? How tired she was? How hurt she was? And no one waited for her to come home but him. He’d been confused when Carver had come back more than an hour ago… alone. The boy had apparently twisted his ankle but within the hour it was already doing better. Kable had sat there by the door, looking between it and the boy with confusion as he watched their Mother come out of her room, ask over the boy, ask where Marian was… Carver had just said he didn’t know and Leandra had accepted that answer. Then they’d both just gone to bed. As if it were alright that Marian was out there in this forsaken city somewhere, alone, possibly injured. They’d refused to open the door for him no matter how hard he’d scratched at it. So he’d just waited. And this was how she returned to him. Then, no one woke to ask after _her_. He wasn’t sure if he could hide his anger for them come the morning. But he would try, for her. She ran her hand over his brow and he inched closer to her, wanting to jump up on the bed but not daring to jostle her. _Dammit Marian… you’re not going out there alone again._

Carver had been laying in his bed waiting for sleep, sleep that wouldn’t come. Witnessing that mage tonight had jarred him. Abomination. Demons. Everything the Chantry warns against. Everything the Circle exists for. It had terrified him on a different level. And his sister was a mage… both of them. He shied away from that thought, unwilling to entertain the idea that Bethany could have ever fallen to something like possession. Never her. But Marian? He wasn’t so sure. She was older… she’d gone through more. He didn’t miss how terrified she’d been tonight, nor did he miss how bright the shine had been in her eyes. When would it be too much? When would she finally lose that control? He’d seen her cast before… but it wasn’t until they were fleeing from the darkspawn did he see her true power. And he was pretty damned sure that she could do much more than what he’d witnessed. How could one trust someone that held that kind of power? That, at a moment’s notice, they could incinerate you? At least Bethany had been a healer. Her magic came from a different place, it gave life. Marian’s only had the power to take it. He jerked when he heard the door and the shuffle of her boots, Kable… who had looked at him so expectedly earlier… and, from the darkness, Carver watched. He frowned when he saw her shadow, just an outline cast by the fire in the main room, limping badly. He knew that she’d gotten hurt but he didn’t know when, nor how bad. He knew he should get up and help her… she would have helped him, no matter how angry she was. But he just… couldn’t. When she’d finally settled he just rolled over and put his back to the room, facing the wall… which just made him feel even worse.


	10. Chapter 10

Tensions between Carver and Marian didn’t improve over the next few weeks. They seemed to just get worse, especially since they kept having to deal with Anders. Somehow or another, he was rooted in more than a few high paying jobs that were kicked their way. Even the presence of the Rivainy pirate didn’t curb Carver’s attitude. At least Isabella didn’t bitch about doing another job for Athenriel. Marian had to listen to two hours of complaining from Carver about _that_ one. But… it worked out. She’d gotten there early and sent the boy back to Athenriel while she completed the transaction. Naturally, the deal went down whether the Coterie liked it or not.

They’d also helped Aveline… which Isabella _wasn’t_ thrilled about. Marian did enjoy listening to the two of them bicker though, she… found it hilarious. Marian couldn’t have been more proud of Aveline though. She had stood in the back of the conference room, discreetly holding up two thumbs against her chest with a broad grin as she watched the Seneschal announce that Aveline was going to be the new Guard Captain. Once the crowd started to thin, Marian danced her way over to her, literally. “All hail Guard Captain Aveline! Protector of the realm!” Marian said perhaps a bit too loudly, but she couldn’t help it.

Aveline held her hands up and waved at Marian. “Shhhhh! Keep it down. You’re embarrassing me.” And she was, completely embarrassed by Marian’s antics. So much so that she was pretty sure that her cheeks were matching her hair at this point.

Marian was still kind of dancing in place, snapping her fingers. “So? That’s what family’s for.” She raised her brows at Aveline and gave her a wide eyed sort of look as she did a whole body jiggle, meant to look silly.

Aveline covered her face with one hand as her head fell. “All that’s missing is me in my underwear.” She ground out.

Marian smirked but finally stilled. “Aw come on ol’ girl.” She stood beside her and threw an arm around her. “I’m proud of you.”

Aveline looked at her with a raised brow. “Really?”

Marian gave her a smirk of a look. “Of course I am. You single handedly discovered the source of corruption in the guard! You’re a hero.” She shifted around and batted her eyelashes at her. “You’re… my hero…”

Aveline had started to squirm under the praise and then she shoved at her. “Oh, get off me.”

“Besides… it’ll be nice having the Captain of the Guard in my pocket.” Marian started doing that half beat dance again.

Aveline rolled her eyes. “I’ll let that slide only because I know you’re joking.”

Marian smirked. “Of course I am, you’d never fit in my pocket.” She turned around and continued her little house dance, eyeing a hesitant Donnic nearby. “But… I gotta go. People to do, things to save.” She faced Aveline and blew her a kiss as she backed away. “Come to the Hanged Man later, Corff will give you a drink on me….” She gave her a wicked grin as she passed Donnic, though didn’t look at him. “And I’ll buy you one too.”

Aveline smirked but then flushed instantly at a renewed embarrassment. “Goodbye. Hawke.” She clipped before looking at Donnic with a nervous smile.

Marian shook her head with narrowed eyes as she walked through Keep Square, Carver beside her, who had been at the impromptu ceremony. “You could at least _pretend_ to be happy for her.”

Isabella had stayed outside, for obvious reasons… along with Kable, who wasn’t allowed in. But she had rejoined them. She just strolled along behind them, she was there for coin, not to get in between whatever the hell was going on between those two. But, _if_ someone were to ask her, she’d tell Carver to pull his head out of his ass and grow up. However… no one had asked her, didn’t stop her from telling him that every chance she got. Little shit. Not that Marian was much better. That girl seriously needed to stop letting Carver treat her like last week’s dog shit.

Carver rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Why? Because we did all the work and she gets all the glory?”

Marian made one of those disbelieving snorts. “Unbelievable. When are you going to understand that it’s not about who does the most work, it’s about who has the most to lose. And Aveline had everything to lose by going out on a limb like that, we _helped_ her. We didn’t do it for her. And, what the fuck, Carver. It’s _Aveline_. Don’t get your knickers in a twist just because she’s got a badge and you don’t.”

Carver ran a hand down his short beard, his temper rising. As always. “Whatever. Maybe if I didn’t have a record as a known smuggler… the guard would have hired me.” He spat at her.

Marian groaned and looked none too amused. “Wow… I didn’t know I was the one who put us in that situation. Damn, I must have a lot of power if I can cause a blight.” She slowed her roll and began strolling like a nobleman. “I do say… let me just control the weather while I’m at it.” If Kable could smirk, he would have.

Isabella smirked from behind them. “If you’re working on impossibilities, I’d like another ship please.”

Marian raised a hand and did a little flourish of her fingers. “Granted.” Her tone couldn’t have been more fake highborn.

Carver rolled his eyes and stormed ahead of her. “Just forget it. Don’t we have somewhere to be.” He’d had enough of her jokes.

Isabella gave a chortle of a laugh as she walked up beside Marian. “Yes, come M’Lord! We must make haste!” She jutted her elbow out.

Marian had her brows raised as she looked to Isabella with hooded eyes. “Ah yes! Wherever thoust goest, I shall go!” She called after Carver as she took Isabella’s arm.

Carver fumed as he charged through the crowd. Damn those two. Isabella was no better! He made way over to the rail system that would carry them out of town. He didn’t wait for them either. He just hopped on and found a place to stand, glaring out over the derelict station. Marian and Isabella joined a moment later, smirking and chuckling to themselves. Kable leapt onto the cart much to more than a few patron’s ire. Marian took hold of his wide harness just to shut them up. Kable snorted in response to their stares. The tram carried them out of town and would have taken them all the way to Ostwick if they hadn’t bailed out at the foothills of Sundermount. There wasn’t a stop there, you just had to jump. Luckily, the tram didn’t move very fast.

Carver got up and brushed himself off with no amount of attitude spared. “Why are we doing this _today_ , again?”

Marian felt like groaning… again. “Because today’s the only day we’ll have free for Maker knows how long and I want this… creepy thing gone.” She plucked the talisman from her pocket and held it away from her slightly.

Isabella pivoted on the heel of her boot. “Ya know… if you want it gone…”

“No.” Both Marian and Carver said in unison. Carver sighed and started down the path away from the tracks. “Let’s get it over with then.”

Marian put the talisman away and followed, her coat whipping in the wind behind her. Isabella’s knee long pirate’s coat likewise doing the same. Marian had her wrist up and was looking down at her leather bracelet. “Should be…” Once the path widened she came up beside Carver and pointed in a northern direct. “That way.”

Carver looked down at her and instantly looked away with an irritated expression. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Marian rolled her eyes at him and started along the mountainous path. It took them a few hours before they saw the telling signs of the elusive Dalish. Kable trotting far into the forest but circling around and coming back, he was enjoying the fresh air and freedom to run. Marian smiled on fondly. They rounded a bend and saw a few armed elves with those freaky tattoos on their faces. Marian walked up with a relaxed stance and a hand raised. “Oi…”

The hunters glared at the humans who were walking up. The male shook his head at the one who spoke and greeted them rather crudely. “Your kind are not welcome here, _shemlen_. Go back to your city.”

Marian raised her brows just slightly at his tone. “I was told to bring something to your Keeper… Marethari?”

The male visibly stiffened with alarm but the female looked at the woman hard. “Wait… this must be who the keeper spoke of.”

The male glanced to his companion and then back at the _shem_. “I.. I thought she’d be an elf.” He shook his head and then dipped his voice. “You’ll find the Keeper at the head of the camp. Keep your manners about you, _shem_. We’ll not tolerate any disrespects.”

Marian nodded to them as she walked by, she didn’t have an answer for his threat. She wasn’t here to cause trouble, she just wanted to drop this weird amulet off and get the hell out of here. Kable trotted up behind her and joined her at her side.

Carver managed to ease his features, he didn’t want to appear hostile. He’d always found the Dalish to be… fascinating. He’d seen them, once or twice, on the outskirts of the Wilds. But he’d never been inside one of their elusive camps. He offered up a small smile at an elven child who stared at him as they walked by… she just kept staring, as if she’d never seen a human before.

Isabella was uninterested and as such, kept her eyes fixed ahead of her, busying herself by counting the freckles on the back of Carver’s neck and trying to connect them to make rather inappropriate images in her head.

Marian looked around discretely but didn’t have to search for the Keeper. It was obvious who she was. She walked up to the fire and though she was pretty sure she was supposed to stop there, she went around it towards the aged elven woman, though aged, she still had a certain youth about her, except of course… in the eyes, they always appeared timeless in the elves. “Marethari? I was told to bring this amulet to you.” Marian already had the amulet out and ready, offering it to the Keeper. _Please, just take it so I can go home…_

Marethari watched the three humans and mabari hound make their way through the camp. If her gifts were reliable, and they always were, she saw much more than just a trio of _shemlen_. The lead woman’s eyes found hers and Marethari smiled gently. _Eyes of the father_ , said the wind. _Bearer of fire_ , said the mountain. She held a hand out to the human once she approached, accepting the talisman and looking at it carefully. “Indeed, I am Keeper Marethari.” She looked back at the human and gestured for her to come nearer. “Come… let me look at you.”

Marian’s lips formed a thin line in disappointment that she couldn’t just drop it and go. But she dutifully stepped closer to the Keeper.

Marethari looked at her carefully, her eyes flowing over her. “There is a light in your heart human… don’t let it go out. You will need it.” She stepped back and held the talisman up. “Tell me how this burden fell to you, child.”

Marian looked at Marethari oddly for what she said. Then blinked and likewise stepped back, feeling Kable’s muzzle into her thigh. “Long story short… the dragonlady… eer… Flemmeth… did me and mine a favor and in return, I was to bring this here to you… which I have done… so…” She gestured with her thumb over her shoulder.

Marethari nodded, even for the human’s humorous explanation, she’d kept her word. “There are few things in this world stronger than a promise kept. But I’m afraid your part in this is not yet done… the amulet must be taken to an altar at the top of the mountain, and given a Dalish rite for the departed. Then, return the amulet to me. Do this… and your debt… will be paid.”

Marian inwardly cursed, she’d hoped that _maybe_ she’d get out of doing the whole _do what she asks with it_ part. No such luck. She listened and nodded. “Are you going to teach me this.. rite.. or…?”

“I will send my First with you… she will see that the ritual is done.” Marethari replied simply, though she still felt apprehension at what came next. “And when it is done… I must ask… that you take her with you when you go.”

Marian had been nodding but then she startled a bit. “Wait… what? Take who with me?”

Marethari nodded. “You would call her my apprentice… Merrill would have taken my place as Keeper. But she has chosen a new path. Please, guide her safely from here.”

Carver just looked annoyed while Isabella was busy looking elsewhere. Marian shook her head. “Lady… I’m not the bloody circus… take her with me… take her where?”

Marethari’s jaw flexed. “Back to Kirkwall… I only ask that you guide her there. Nothing more. This is her wish… and I must grant it.”

Marian shook her head with a look of disbelief and marginally smartass-m. “Fine. Whatever. Where is she?” _Why… why me._

Marethari gestured past her. “She awaits you further up the mountain trail. Walk softly, human, many things prowl the mountain pass.” She passed the amulet back to the woman.

Carver walked past them and headed up the path, eager to be done with this once and for all. Isabella rolled her eyes before looking to Marian and following. Marian sighed, glanced at the Keeper when she took the amulet back and shrugged before doing the same. Up the path, they did in fact come upon another Dalish. Carver felt as though his heart did a flip in his chest when he first saw her. Her short hair was tied back in a few places and her traditional Dalish dress accentuated her darker skin. Those tattoos present and accounted for on her face and when she turned towards him, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to… she had the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

Merrill stood up quickly and smiled wide. “Hello.” She waved at the man who was staring at her.

Carver kept on staring… _speak, idiot!!_ At least, that’s what he was yelling inside his head. Nothing came out of his mouth though. He heard Isabella’s voice come up beside him instead.

“Well Hello to you too Kitten.” Isabella drawled as she walked up and got her first look at Merrill. Once Marian joined them she pivoted on the heel of her thigh high boot and set her hand on her hip, brushing her coat out of the way to do it, her corset stretching as she jutted out a hip. “My, isn’t she just _adorable_.” Isabella could practically _smell_ the pheromones coming off of Carver.

Marian was less than amused. “Yeah, sure.” She focused her attention on the Dalish that was still smiling at them like she had just won some kind of award. “Merrill I presume.”

Merrill nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. And you are the human that the Keeper told me about.”

            “That’s me. So… let’s go.” Marian gestured as she walked on. Marian wasn’t as taken with the new burden that practically skipped along with them. But, she didn’t miss how Carver practically drooled. Well, bully for him. Aside from a little confrontation along the path with another hunter… to which Marian asked no questions and provided no commentary, even though she noted that Carver said nothing of Merrill’s magic… of course not. That more than stung. Which was why she’d kept quiet. That was… until they got to a barrier. Then.. she witnessed Merrill do something that made her skin crawl. “Oh… yay… blood magic.” She said with false joy as she pinned Carver with a wide eyed look that said _are you fucking kidding me right now!?_

            “Yes… I used blood magic but I know what I’m doing. The Dalish are not bound by the rules of your Chantry.” Merrill said simply and rather defensively.

            Carver looked worried… but… he believed her. He wasn’t a Dalish after all, perhaps the elves knew more about it than they did. So the look that Marian gave him was not returned, he just gave her an unknowing shrug.

            Marian pinched at the bridge of her nose. “Un-fucking-believable…” She ground out. “You only think you know. Those rules are in place for a _good_ reason, if you haven’t figured out why well… then there’s no helping you… is there.” She narrowed her eyes on her and shook her head before walking past her. “Idiot.”

            Carver’s brows shot down at Marian. “Hey, back off Marian.”

            Marian just waved a hand over her shoulder, dismissing him and Merrill who gawked at her. “Let’s get this over with.” She barked out.

            Merrill did gawk.. and then frown. She didn’t expect the human to understand… and while she appreciated the man’s defense of her, she was used to the prejudice. She hurried ahead and walked around Marian, making for the altar. Once there she glanced behind her. “The amulet.” Her words were no longer cheery, but clipped.

            Marian didn’t give a fuck. Behold… her baron field of fucks. Blood magic was unforgivable in her mind, that was where she drew a very clear and concise line… one she never crossed, nor even thought of crossing. She fished out the amulet and handed it to her before backing up a few paces to give her room for… whatever it was she was going to do. She could feel Carver’s eyes boring a hole into the back of her head until he came to stand beside her, Isabella had been uncommonly quiet the entire time. Whatever. She listened as Merrill slid into elven and gave the rite before _poof_ there was the dragonlady. “What the fuck!” Marian’s words came out of her with no thought as she jerked back. Carver and Isabella both pretty much had the same reaction.

            Flemeth smirked at Marian. “Ah… it’s so refreshing to see someone keep their word. I half expected my amulet to end up in some merchant’s pocket.”

            Marian still stared wide eyed at her. “Yeah, well… that would have been difficult considering there was a freaking old lady in it.” Her last words were given short and slightly louder than the rest. “What the hell? You could have at least told me you were in there, I would have put it in a box or something instead of letting it just float around my sock drawer.”

            Flemeth had to laugh at her. “Oh I like you… but it was just a piece, a small piece. A little insurance. And you did marvelously.”

            Carver glared at the witch. “So, we smuggled you in then… is this going to be one more thing to regret?”

            Flemeth turned her fierce gaze on the boy. “Regret is something I know well… take care not to cling to it, to hold it so close it poisons your soul.”

            Marian shied away from the witch’s words but recovered quickly. “You have plans, I take it?”

            Flemeth looked on Marian just as carefully as she had done before. “Destiny awaits us both, dear girl. We have much to do. But before I go… a word of advice?” She turned away from them and looked out over the valley and skies. “We stand upon the precipice of change… the world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss.” She looked back at Marian rather intently. “Watch for that moment… and when it comes… do not be afraid to leap. It is only when you fall… that you learn whether you can fly.”

            Marian felt as though the air around her had slowed when the old woman spoke… as if she was handing down some long foretold prophecy. But… as she so often did… she handled it in her own way, with a perk of a brow. “Cheap advice from a dragon.”

            Flemeth’s smirk overtook her features, knowing the deflection for what it was. “We all have our challenges.” She nodded to the woman and was about to leave but caught sight of the Dalish who had been nearly lurking off to the side the entire time, as she passed her she paused and watched as the girl bowed her head. “Take care, child… no path is darkest… than when your eyes are shut.” And just like that… she took flight and was gone.

            Isabella was speechless… for a moment. “You were carrying that around in your pocket? Damn, Hawke… that would have been worth a fortune.”

            Marian rolled her eyes at the pirate. “Come on, let’s get going. We have a blood mage to escort back to the city.” No amount of sarcasm was spared with her fake smile.

            Carver’s eyes shot daggers at Marian for that comment. He fell in step beside Merrill and tried a few times to make polite conversation… in his head. He didn’t actually speak all that much and when he did, he felt flustered and awkward. He suspected though that Merrill didn’t really want to talk. They managed to catch the tram back to the city and Carver was the one who made sure Merrill had found a place in the alienage. He gave her his address and extended an invitation. Marian and Isabella had split as soon as they got back, he had no idea where they’d run off too and he didn’t care.


	11. Chapter 11

Later that night, Marian helped Isabella out with a favor for a friend of hers, Martin was officially her new go-to for anything that wasn’t exactly friendly in the liquid weaponry department. Within a week she had picked up a shadow, that damned Dalish elf. Carver insisted on bringing her along everywhere they went and Isabella thought she was harmless. Whatever, Marian decided to keep her opinions and comments to herself, not that she’d said anything else since Sundermount. Merrill was amusing in her own way though, innocence that bordered on unbelievable. Marian was ready to snap… any day now, she just knew it! Not only was Merrill almost always around, but that freak Anders had decided that _he_ was going to join their band of merry whatevers too. So, he became a weirdo shadow. At least the commentary was interesting and the chastising he gave Merrill on an almost regular basis was highly amusing. Marian could have done without his presence though, he gave her the willies. And not in a good way. That lasted about a week before she tried to go into hiding. But… apparently she was horrible at it.

            Because she went to the Hanged Man, the only tavern she really knew of that was open this late. She was sitting at the bar with a glass of water in front of her while she flicked empty peanut shells across the room at unsuspecting patrons, after bouncing them off the mirror behind Corff of course. She had her cheek in her hand, elbow on the bar, and looked completely bored. That’s how Varric found her. She  hadn’t seen him in a month or so, ever since that night at the Chantry. She’d been busy… she hadn’t been able to get to damn near any of her jobs and that had put a strain on her home life. Tonight, it was one argument too many and she’d stormed out… again. Carver was really pushing it lately and she was too tired to watch her temper. She sighed heavily as yet another drunk ass slid in beside her and gurgled some cheesy pickup line, slurred something that was probably offensive if she could understand him. “No.” She groaned out before flicking another peanut shell. The man called her a stuck up bitch and moved on. _Douchbags zero, Mare fifteen. Go team_. She felt another person come up beside her, this time on her blind side.

            Varric smirked as he slunk in behind her. “Buy you a drink, sweetheart.” He drawled out in a fake accent.

            Marian let her head fall with an aggravated… fake… sigh. “No.” There _was_ a mirror behind the bar, after all…

            Varric almost chuckled but he didn’t. “Aw, come on… don’t be that way.” He leaned in closer to her, an arm going around her waist.

            Marian blinked from behind the curtain of her hair and smirked just a bit. She swayed and leaned into him. “What’s it going to cost me?” She ran a hand beneath his coat and around his waist, slipping a finger under his shirt and running it atop his jeans.

            Varric’s spine stiffened when she responded to him, aw crap… _backfire, abort, abort!_ The muscles in his lower back tensed at the touch as he shifted away from her. “Marian?”

            Marian wiped the smirk from her face and looked up at him with a fake drunk expression, hooded eyes to match. “Mmhm?” She went with him when he pulled away.

            Varric’s eyes flared slightly, _shit.. shit, shit._ “Uh…” He reached behind him and took hold of her wrist as she made small circles on his skin. “You’re drunk.. let’s uh.. get you.. home, okay…” His voice stalled out as she slid from the stool and pressed herself against him, he had nowhere to freaking go, he felt the stool behind him like a brick wall. Patrons surrounded them, it was damn near standing room only tonight… the low light and loud music made it almost impossible to see or move very far. He swallowed harshly as he looked down at her and the way she slouched.

            It was taking _all_ of her willpower _not_ to crack up as she half slid, half fell off the stool into him, she ran her hand further under his shirt while her other one settled at the base of his throat, her index finger toying with his adams apple. She gave him what she suspected was a stupid drunk looking smile before leaning in and running her cheek along his, the hand on his back barely tucking beneath his waistband and pulling at him before she spoke in his ear… clear… and no slur at all. “What? No drink… sweetheart?” She suddenly pulled away all together and gave him a knowing look with a perked brow.

            Varric felt like he was on high alert, dammit all! Shit, shit, shit! He had taken hold of her wrist but then she was all.. right there! _Think, dumbass!_ He was screaming at himself inside his brain but when she stuck her fingers basically… well, starting to go down his pants, his jaw clinched on him and then.. she spoke and he had that look as she pulled away. He gaped at her… “You…” He rolled his lips and shook his head. “Damn Ferelden…” He ground out, beyond grateful for the low light as he felt the heat up his neck and into his cheeks. He reached down and adjusted himself while pulling his coat over the action.

            Marian threw her head back with a hearty laugh before looking back at him. She raised a brow at his adjustment, her eyes pointedly going down and then back at him, flaring slightly. “Seems a shame to waste it.”

            Varric stilled and narrowed his eyes at her… now he didn’t know if she was joking or… serious. “It does… doesn’t it?”

            Marian smirked at him. “Indeed.” She picked up her water and took a sip.

            Varric looked at her carefully, dammit, she was giving him nothing. Not like he’d ever… but still, it was nice to be hit on every now and again, even if it was fake. “Why do you only drink water?” He _had_ to ask.

            Marian raised a brow at him. “It’s… the safest.” She answered simply before leaning in and giving him a conspiracy type whisper. “I do naughty things when I drink.” She wiggled her brows at him before taking another sip of her water.

            Varric gave her a devilish grin. “Oh really now…” He looked over at Corff. “Corff, two ales over here.”

            Marian chuckled and shook her head at him. “Dream on, dwarf.”

            Varric rolled his eyes at her and held his hand out in question when Corff only brought him one. “What the hell, Corff.” Marian just laughed again. “Oh laugh it up… one day I’ll bear witness to these supposed naughty things.”

            Marian shook her head at him. The night saw them at the corner card table in back with Isabella and few others. Wicked Grace was the game, as always and almost as always, it came down to Marian and Isabella. Varric thoroughly enjoyed watching Marian play cards… she had _no_ tells, it was infuriating and interesting at the same time. Isabella was extremely good at hiding hers but she also cheated. Marian knew that though and could usually catch her doing it. The night was nearly done when Isabella and the two others that had been playing decided to call it and left. Varric sat there shuffling the cards as he looked at Marian across the table, watching as she leaned back in her chair and… well, she looked damned tired to be honest, but not the kind of tired that said she needed sleep, the kind of tired that said she needed a freaking break from the world. He suddenly set the deck down and got up, pulling his coat on. “Come on.”

            Marian blinked at him, she was just about to head on home though only because she had nowhere else she could go. She looked up at him with a curious expression. “Where are we going?”

            Varric picked her coat up and offered it to her. “Will you just come on… sheesh, human. Always asking questions and shit…” He grumbled with a good natured smirk.

            Marian rolled her eyes but humored him, pulling her coat on and gesturing before her. “Lead the way then.”

            Varric gave a firm nod and took her outstretched hand and led her out of the bar and onto the street, aiming for the bike. That’s when he felt the resistance and he looked back at her. “What?”

            Marian shook her head at him. “No… hell no. I’m not getting back on that thing.”

            Varric gave her a tightlipped look. “Oh, stop being a baby.” He climbed on and started it up, revving it while raising his brows at her in time, waving for her to come on.

            Marian didn’t like that bike, she was sure it was possessed… or something. She groaned but dutifully climbed on behind him, adjusting her coat to do so. She held on and set her forehead on his shoulder, closing her eyes, not wanting to experience this again.

            Varric couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. He drove off and aimed for the edge of the city and beyond. He didn’t stop until he reached the furthest point on the wounded coast, rolling up on the sand to a stop, killing the engine and taking a deep breath, covering her hands with his and giving her a pat. “Okay… you can look now.” He chastised.

            Marian had seriously kept her head down the entire time, she _really_ didn’t like that thing. So when they got to wherever they were going, she was actually surprised. She looked out over the sea and took in a deep breath before sliding from the bike and walking towards the water, the sand giving way under her boots. “Oh… Varric….” She was near breathless. Under a seemingly endless sky… one she hadn’t seen… in so long… filled with so many stars, stars that were impossible to see in the city… the ocean was a marvel. The moons hung so low in the sky it was amazing that they were up there at all. She took in a deep breath through her nose, pulling in the salty air and letting it soothe her. She felt Varric come up beside her. “Somewhere… across all that water… is Ferelden…” She felt her eyes sting for the briefest of moments. “Somewhere over there is home.” She said the last so quietly as her tone went sad.

            Varric watched her walk ahead of him with a knowing smile. He liked to come out here every now and again, when the city felt like it was pushing in on him. He didn’t feel like that often, but sometimes… it was nice to be reminded that there was more in the world than just Kirkwall brown. He set the kickstand and climbed off the bike and made his way over to stand beside her, looking out over the ocean. Her words came so soft… and then he heard her sadness, could almost feel her longing. He reached just the slightest bit with his hand and laced his fingers with hers. “Tell me about it… your home.” He said quietly, simply. He wanted to know her… know where she came from… and he didn’t even want to examine why he felt the need to hold her hand so much tonight… perhaps it was his own desire to feel a connection.

            Marian smiled quietly when he held her hand, it was actually quite sweet. His words though almost caught her off guard. “Lothering?” She glanced over at him and when he gave a sort of shrug and nod she looked up at the stars. “It’s… well… it was… never more than just a knock about place. My father moved us all there in nine-twenty. It’s rural… and safe. Was… safe.” She closed her eyes as she shook her head just slightly. “He built this house… it was so beautiful, Varric. Nicer than we’d ever had. We all had our own rooms… up until then I had always shared a room with Bethan…” She closed her mouth quickly, rolling her lower lip in a bit, feeling the sting again, looking away from him as she withdrew her hand and fell silent.

            Varric was listening and then… she seemed to just shut down… and pull away from him. He frowned and reached for her hand again, taking it firmly. “Hey.. Mare… talk to me.” He didn’t know where the concern in his voice came from. But… he felt her pain as if it clung to her.

            Marian felt her hand ensnared and she looked over at him. “Why?” She looked at him hard, her golden eyes catching the moonlight. “Why do you want to know?”

            Varric was taken aback by both her question and her look, a crease forming in his brow. “I… I just want to know more about you, that’s all… you can trust me with this.” He eased his tone, hating how it just went more gravel filled than usual. “I promise.”

            Marian looked worried… and felt the same. She didn’t let people in, not really. And he was asking her to do just that. “How do I know I can trust you?” She wanted to pull her hand back again but she didn’t, she just looked between his eyes, flicking back and forth, searching for some hint that he was playing at some game.

            Varric’s lips formed a thin line as he turned to face her properly, lifting her hand, he splayed it over his chest. “You don’t know. But I swear… I just want to know you.” And he did… he really did just want to know her. He’d tried to find out more about her through his usual methods but it was as if she just appeared out of thin air a year ago in Kirkwall, nothing before then. He knew where she lived… who she lived with… but that was it. Nothing personal. It was as if some cosmic being had gone to great lengths to ensure that there was nothing overly identifying left behind by her presence.

            Marian didn’t look entirely convinced, more scared than anything else. She felt his steady heartbeat beneath her hand and had to take a stilling breath. “I had a sister… Bethany.” She instantly felt the sting in her eyes, her nostrils flaring as the emotion slammed into her. “She…” She blinked rapidly as tears welled, much to her ire. “Was killed while we were running…” She closed her eyes and shook her head, a few tears spilling over. “She was… eighteen…” She canted her jaw to the side before looking back at him, feeling her chest go tight as if each breath was a challenge, anger making its trek across her face. “It was my fault.” Her pupils flashed just so as more tears followed the same path as the others. “I wasn’t fast enough… I watched that ogre.. just… tear her apart… and I couldn’t get there fast enough.” She swayed slightly as she closed her eyes, hearing the screams in her mind.

            Varric felt the hitch in his chest as he closed his eyes with dread. _Dammit…_ He listened and watched as she told him of her heartbreak. It didn’t take a generous to figure out that this sister she spoke of had to be Carver’s twin, he knew how old the boy was, nineteen now. Nor would it take a genius to figure out that it had to have changed Carver, he couldn’t have always been the way is now. He tightened his hold on her hand when he saw the first tears fall. He shook his head at her when she proclaimed that it was her fault. “No… Marian… no… it’s not your fault.” He reached up and ran his thumb along her cheek under her eye, wiping away some tears. “Things like this.. are no one’s fault.” He tried to say it with enough conviction that she’d believe him.

            Marian frowned at him. “My family blames me… and they’re right to do so. I can do amazing things, Varric… I can… but I couldn’t save her. It doesn’t add up.” She’d tried to ignore the feeling of him clearing away some of her tears.

            Varric took her face in his hands gently, pinning her with a serious look. “You’re right, Mare… it doesn’t add up… it can’t be explained. But that doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t create darkspawn… or that ogre… and if your family can’t see that? Then…” He shook his head at that. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.” He was ready to say _fuck them_ but… he didn’t.

            Marian took a ragged breath as she leaned forward and just rested her forehead against his, shaking her head slightly. “My brain may know that… but my heart won’t believe anything else.” She sighed as her shoulders sagged and she felt herself being pulled into a firm embrace… and at first she stiffened and then… welcomed it, surrendered to it. It’d been… so long since she’d had just a simple hug. A side armed hug? She gave those to Aveline all the time.. but a real embrace? Not since before leaving Lothering. “Thank you, Varric.” She whispered into the wind.

            Varric held her close to him, taking a deep breath as he smoothed her hair down her nape. “Anytime.” And he meant it… he still felt that pull, that connection. Feeling her pain… brought it almost too close. In fact… it’d been much longer since he’d held anyone. Or been held… her arms around him had him pulling her to him all the tighter, as if he didn’t want to let go. And he didn’t… not for a good long while. He just stood there, his boots sinking in the sand, toe to toe with her, their coats getting whipped around by the salty breeze, hair doing the same… holding onto one another as the world kept on spinning around.  

            And that’s how it began. She’d shown him this piece of her, this secret part. The part that she didn’t let anyone else see. The whole way back to the city, Varric felt as though the first tumblers of a lock were sliding into place, securing whatever bond the universe had in store for them. Naturally, it made him nervous… but he didn’t dwell on those thoughts, the thoughts that plagued him and undercut his confidence. He ignored that whole part, as he so often did. He just prayed that this friendship wasn’t going to end in pain, for either of them. Because that’s what it was, that’s all it could ever be. Complications abound in his personal life decreed it so. He dropped her off in front of her Uncle’s apartment building, smirking when she raised a brow at him and watched on as she climbed the stairs and disappeared into the hovel before he took himself home. Once home, he had settled down to write a letter, one he’d intended to write the day before… but as the stubbed quill hung over the paper, he fell deep into thought and all he could think of was the feeling of Marian’s arms around him. He was struck with a profound emptiness… and he put the quill down and walked away. He’d write the letter to _her_ later, when his head wasn’t mixed up.


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning, Varric stood at Gamlen’s front door, a heavy fist sent onto it thrice. His other hand held a drink carrier, though he didn’t entirely trust the dodgy thing… his coffee, a tiny little thing that Tomwise had reassured him was Marian’s chosen morning beverage, and just another regular. He was freshly showered, bright eyed, and ready to help Hawke, as he started referring to her in his head for business purposes, earn that gold coin in earnest. His hair was pulled back as per the usual, his same old coat in place… stitched up on the back from that Chantry fiasco. He was looking out over the complex, at the many open or missing windows, the curtains that danced in the morning breeze, the people already moving about, when the door finally opened. He turned and saw… Gamlen, looking rather irate.

            “Who the hell are you?” Gamlen looked down at the obvious dwarf with a glare.

            “Varric Tethras. Here to pick the kids up for school.” He smirked, eyeing the man. He knew of Gamlen… and what he knew… he didn’t like. He was a real sleaze, especially considering it had become public (underworld) knowledge that he’d basically stolen Leandra’s inheritance out from under her.

            “What?” Gamlen looked confused for a moment before sighing and backing up. “Well hurry up, you’re letting all the bought air out.” He growled as he walked away from the door, just a few paces though to the ‘kitchen’ where he was working on ‘breakfast’. Which was a pan of potatoes and an egg… enough potatoes and you could make it stretch. Though if more coin was coming in… he wouldn’t have to make it bloody stretch. He grumbled all of this in his mind as he stirred the potatoes as if it was their fault.

            Varric chuckled but dutifully stepped in and shut the door, turned around and did a quick glance over the room, making sure he didn’t stare. _Damn… they all lived here?_ Carver came out of a side doorway blocked by a curtain wearing nothing but boxer shorts, rubbing at his eyes. “Ah, the prodigal son awakens.” Varric said with a smirk, pulled the coffee from the carrier and offered it to him.

            Carver squinted at Varric for a moment, trying to remember who the hell he was. Then it came to him and he took the coffee with a grumble. “What do you want?”

            “We got a job. Where’s Hawke?” Varric replied simply, _you’re welcome dickhead._ He tacked on in his head.

            Carver’s lips formed a thin line. _Ya know, my last name’s Hawke too._ But he didn’t say it, he just sat down on the worn sofa and took a sip of the coffee, shuddering and pointed to the door he came out of.

            Varric shook his head a bit, so… guess he’s not a morning person, _alright junior, you get a free pass_. He walked over to the curtain and walked in, letting it fall close behind him and froze for the deep growl that greeted him. “Whoa… easy boy…” He held a hand up though he felt his pulse quicken with alarm. A mabari… and he knew well what kind of dog that was… had been laying down but was now slowly standing up _over_ Marian, who was still in bed asleep. His ears pinned down with a clear threat in his black eyes, his brown and black brindle coat seeming to stand on end as he fixed those eyes on the intruder. The growl only got louder when Varric spoke to him, giving him a very clear view of the hound’s large teeth. Bred for a single purpose, he was well equipped with all the onboard weaponry he needed to be lethal.

            Kable had been dozing, not quite asleep when he heard a voice out in the main room. It didn’t concern him… it was out there, not in here. But then, the curtain parted and a strange man came in… no… a dwarf. That sent him into high alert, especially since Marian was asleep. Then the dwarf _dared_ try to calm him down, was he insane?

            Marian’s brows went down at being disturbed, she didn’t want to wake up… _too early_ she groaned in her mind but she peaked anyway. She saw Kable above her and her eyes shot open, she quickly looked at the door, sitting up with a startle, her pupils instantly shining with her gift for the suddenly alarm she felt. She sighed heavily when she saw Varric standing there. “Kable, it’s alright.” And just like that, Kable stopped, his ears perked up and he looked down at her with a tilt of his head. “Kable, this is Varric… Varric, Kable.” She took a stilling breath and rubbed at her face before pushing at Kable. “What… what are you doing here?” She swung her feet out from under the covers and settled them on the chilled floor, looking up at him with a confused look.

            Varric likewise had to still himself, mabari were no joke, no joke _at all_. And the way she woke up, the light in her eyes? It was a damned good thing he was a dwarf, he was thankful for that every day! “Kable.” He nodded to the mabari who was pushed off the bed and trotted over to him, sniffing at his hand that was now at his side. He didn’t pet the dog… you didn’t _pet_ mabari. Not unless it was yours. He returned his attention to Marian and was poised to speak but… ended up just staring at her. Hair mussed from sleep, most of it having worked loose from a braid of some kind, of course she still wore her necklace and leather bracelet but other than that, a simple gray shirt that was at least two sizes too big and… it didn’t look like anything else. She looked… gentle. Then she smiled nervously and he had to swallow down a tightness in his chest.

            “What… are you staring at?” Marian looked at him oddly for how he was just… staring at her. Did she have something in her hair? Did Kable spend half the night trying to comb it again? Wouldn’t be the first time. She lifted a hand up and smoothed it down… no… it wasn’t that.

            Varric blinked and shook his head a bit. “Nothing… it’s just that…” He felt the heat creeping up his neck but he ignored it. “You’re beautiful… Ah!” He’d just said what was on his mind and he felt a sharp nip to his fingers. “Damn, Kable.” He lifted his hand and checked to see if there was any blood before glaring down at the dog… who was glaring right back. “Uncalled for.” He growled down at the mabari, who flattened his ears at him.

            Marian blinked at Varric’s comment and gave a bit of a laugh, shaking her head at him… _and_ the dog. “Whatever..” She got up and walked over to the closet and pulled some jeans on. “So… what are you doing here?” She put her back to him and took off the gray shirt and tossed it over the bar in the closet and pulled on a thermal, tugging it down firmly and quickly.

            Varric was still narrowing his eyes at her dog, and getting it back from the mabari when he looked over at her, just in time to see her pull her shirt off. He almost dropped the coffee, he had to set the carrier down on the dresser. He took the few short strides over to her and took hold of the hem of her thermal and jerked it back up.

            She was about to turn around when she felt him right there. “What… no…” She tried to turn around but felt a firm hand on her shoulder. “Varric… don’t…” But she knew it was too late, her lips formed a thin line as she felt her thermal up by her shoulders. She couldn’t help but tense and jerk when his hand touched her back.

            Varric’s features hardened when he stilled her, he couldn’t quite form a word at first. Kable didn’t stop him… he picked up the feeling of alarm from the dwarf. Varric swallowed roughly when he stilled her and pulled her shirt up to expose her back. “Maker’s breath…” He breathed as his chin trembled just slightly and he ran a hand over the scars… unmistakable in their pattern… slashes that spanned the length, some crossing over others, only one thing could have made them… a whip.

            Marian stood there with a stoic expression, as if she wasn’t really there. She wasn’t going to talk about it, that was for damned sure. She wasn’t even going to think about it. “It’s nothing.” She whispered at the closet.

            Varric took a ragged breath as he pulled her shirt back down, feeling… rage… boil in his chest. “Who.” He hadn’t stepped away from her… he hadn’t moved at all.

            Marian shook her head. “Leave it alone.”

            Varric shut his eyes and tried to take a deep breath but found he couldn’t quite complete it, he moved closer to her until there was but an inch between them and damn near growled the word. “ _Who_.”

            Marian let her head hang just a bit before speaking into her shoulder. “Templars.”

            Varric tensed as his hands fisted at his sides, he tilted his head just so, the tendons stretching. “When.”

            Marian rolled her lips and shook her head. “Just let—“

            Varric stepped around to her side and caged her against the wall, his fists digging into the sad drywall, his rings pinching at his fingers, but he didn’t move fast, he moved… strained and controlled, he still didn’t look at her, his eyes cast down. “ _When._ ”

            Marian sighed heavily, shaking her head. “About four years ago.” Just standing there between his thick arms, hands at her sides.

            Varric was still trying to calm himself, each breath felt strained as if he had a band around his chest. His jaw was set and his brow was low. He swayed slightly as he straightened, shifting his weight as he set a hand on her hip and turned her towards him, pulling her into his arms. He had never felt hate until that moment… true… biased… hate. For some reason he couldn’t even begin to understand, the fact that he hadn’t been there bothered him. Which was insane… he hadn’t even known she existed then. He didn’t take a full breath until she finally put her arms around his neck, and the breath he took swayed them both. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry… but he didn’t. He didn’t want her thinking he pitied her, because he didn’t. He just settled his cheek against hers and gave it a little rub before pulling away. “I brought you some coffee.”

            Marian felt as though he’d pulled the truth from her… at least in part. It confused her as to why he even gave a shit in the first place, but apparently he did. That alone made her nervous. Then he was there again, with his comfort. Comfort she didn’t want to feel. But damned if that strength didn’t seem to ground her and pull her too him all the more… which freaked her out and only caused her to be more guarded. But, she gave it back to him and it seemed to help. It seemed to… mean so much to him. Her mind was doing overtime, stuffing away thoughts and feelings, primarily ones concerning him. When he pulled away and spoke, she was grateful for it. She nodded. “Thanks.” She followed the few feet and took the small paper cup with a smirk. It had _sezzy bitch_ written on it. “Tomwise.” She shook her head and drank it down in one swallow before setting it back in the carrier. “You still haven’t answered me… _what_ are you doing here?”

            Varric had thought it was funny too. Especially since Carver’s said _the boy_. He pulled his own coffee out ( _the dwarf)_ and took a sip. “We got a job.” He watched as Kable brushed against Marian like a freaking cat, shaking his head at the weird dog. “A dwarf by the name of Anso has had some merchandise go missing and he has hired _us_ to find it.” He took another swallow of his coffee and shuddered. “But first… there’s some business down at the Bone Pit for us… _and_ …” He fished around in his pocket for a wrinkled piece of paper that he pulled out between his fingers and flipped it up, reading what was on it. “The _Prince_ of Starkhaven is offering a reward for dispatching the Mercenaries who apparently murdered his mother, father, and sister.” He shrugged, stuffing the chanter’s board report back into his pocket. “I’m not opposed to taking out mercs… but that one’s up to you.”

            Carver was leaning on the door jam with his coffee. “Merrill also said there’s someone in the alienage that could use a hand, not that it’d pay much.” He sipped his coffee and gave them both a look that said _yeah, I’m here too_ when they looked at him with raised brows. He shoved off and walked to the closet. “Now get out so I can get dressed.”

            Varric had blinked at Carver’s sudden appearance and wondered for a moment, how long he’d been there… he smirked though. “Maker yes, last thing I want to see is your hairy ass.” He made a quick exit but not before noticing how Kable bared his teeth at the boy… _right on, mabari…_ so he wasn’t the only one who didn’t appreciate Carver’s attitude lately.

            They left after an awkward silence that Varric was forced to endure with Gamlen as Marian spoke with her Mother. He could have gone without the stink eye that greasy human was throwing his way. But eventually they left, Carver and Kable in tow… which was why Varric hadn’t ridden over here, that and the coffee, though he hadn’t expected the dog to join them. Couldn’t hurt. They took care of business at the Bone Pit and Varric ended up negotiating with the owner for Hawke to take a royalty share in exchange for the work they had done, clearing out freaking dragon hatchlings. He was still marginally freaked out about that. The mercs came next… it was the first time he’d truly witnessed Marian using her magic and damned if it didn’t make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. More than once he found himself staring at her as she moved, eyes vibrantly lit, staff spinning in skilled hands… as she brought forth flame in a way that was both deadly and beautiful. For the first time… she looked… alive. But no less dangerous. He also didn’t miss the way Carver damn near sneered at her use of magic and chastised her for it afterwards. More than once he had to remind Carver that if it weren’t for a well placed wall of flames that erupted out of the ground or a trail of embers that came seemingly out of nowhere and slammed into one of those unsavory mercs, Carver’d be a lot more beat up than he was. Junior didn’t like those reminders at all. He also noted that Carver seemed to turn a blind eye to Merrill’s use of magic.

            Marian was used to it, so she ignored him. She wasn’t used to Merrill’s wild and reckless magic though. More than once she’d had to dodge a loose spell. And each time she laid into the elf for it, Carver jumped to her defense… which caused more than one argument. Whatever… he had the hots for the elf but couldn’t tell the difference between safe and unsafe usage of magic? Let him get hurt then. Once they’d finished off the mercenary company, they’d headed back to Kirkwall. She was tired… and sore… drained and more than done with Carver’s shit. She was beyond grateful when him and Merrill both split once they got back. She finally felt the tension in her shoulders easing as she walked along the Hightown streets towards the Chantry, Varric and Kable beside her.

            Varric was growing increasingly done with Junior’s shit. “What the hell is his problem?” He ground out, still shaking his head over Carver’s attitude.

            Marian was so done with the day that the words slid past her lips without thought. “I’m not Bethany.” She blinked and swallowed harshly, too late to recall them, she just kept on walking past the hitch in her step.

            Varric shook his head at that. “Well he needs to get over that shit.” He heard Kable snort beside them, it sounded like he agreed, hell he’d take it.

            Marian glanced up at him suddenly with a confused look but looked back ahead of her just as quickly. “Whatever… I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

            Varric had missed the look, he was still staring straight ahead. He gave her a curt nod. “All right.” He rounded the corner and started climbing the many steps to the front door of the Chantry, no need going in the side this time, thank the Maker. “Let’s have a little chat with our Prince… shall we?” He tossed her a wicked little grin, trying to ease his own tensions.

            Marian followed with a smirk. “He better put out or I’m gonna be pissed.” She took the steps quickly and gave Kable the signal to wait for them outside, jerking at the massive door handle and stepping inside.

            Varric chuckled low at her comment. Their encounter with royalty was.. entertaining to say the very least. Not only was the Prince a.. Prince. But apparently he was also a Brother in the Chantry. And apparently that was like some kind of drug to Marian’s smart mouth. Varric was barely containing his laughter by the time they left the chantry, coin in hand. She’d made the Prince blush three times and fumble the bag of gold before they left, and Varric didn’t miss how the Prince had immediately rushed away, no doubt to go pray. Once outside he shook his head at her while she tossed the bag once and tucked it into her coat, securing it to her belt. “You’re horrible.”

            Marian couldn’t help the grin that was plastered to her face. “I know… I couldn’t help it. It was _so_ easy.”

            “Chantry Brothers always are.” Varric added as he fished out a smoke and lit up. “Not even much of a challenge really.” He absentmindedly ran his hand along Kable’s neck, the mabari actually allowing it. Which, later, Varric would realize meant a great deal.

            Marian chuckled as she did the same, taking a long pull at the hand rolled, exhaling it in a plume of smoke as they started down the stairs. “ _Men_ aren’t much of a challenge.” She corrected.

            Varric raised his brows at her and ran his tongue along his teeth behind closed lips as they were almost the bottom. “Oh, I beg to differ.”

            Marian had to laugh at that. “Men like to think they aren’t easy… but they are.” She took a drag and pivoted to look at him with that same smirk. “You lot can’t help it.”

            “Oi… I happen to be able to control myself.” He covered his chest with a hand, looking rather offended, coming to a halt and facing her.

            Marian raised a brow. “Oh really… like you did that night at the Hanged Man.”

            Varric waved her off. “Bah… I was just messing with you.” He took another drag and blew the smoke out the side of his mouth as he looked around, getting the sinking suspicion that he was digging himself a hole here.

            Marian smirked again. “Sure you were.” She silenced another small laugh and started back down the stairs.

            Varric visibly bristled but followed anyway, flicking the rest of his cigarette away once he reached the bottom. “Aight…” He drawled out before continuing. “Let’s get Isabella and head over to Lowtown and meet Anso.”

            Marian did the same with her smoke, nodding at him while sending her gilded gaze around, as if she were distracted for a moment. “Yeah…” She narrowed her eyes a bit but shook it off and off they went.

            Isabella wasn’t alone, apparently Blondie and her had struck up some sort of odd friendship or at the very least, acquaintance. He’d offered to tag along but Marian shut that down, right quick and in a hurry. The meeting with Anso turned out to be a patsy and they ended up meeting a rather irate elf… once they finished the job, Marian was trying to steady herself as she walked out of that damned Hightown mansion. It never set well with her, dealing with demons.  Isabella had screamed more than once but had done surprisingly well, and Marian had told her so.


	13. Chapter 13

“It never ends.” Fenris ground out from his station just outside the door, eyeing Hawke as she so brazenly appeared. “I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it hunt me at every turn… it is a plague, a disease… burned into my flesh and my soul. And now… I find myself in the company of yet another mage.” He shoved off and stalked over to her, sneering. “I saw you casting spells inside… I should have realized sooner what you _really_ were.”

            Marian glanced over at the broody elf with a raised brow, for an angry one he sure did like to talk. But his tone was far from friendly, especially when he came upon her. Her features hardened as her chin slowly rose, golden eyes flicking between his silver ones. “I think we’re done here.” She said rather low before turning away.

            Fenris’ brows were kept low, not shying away from the hard look she was giving him… but then she dismissed him so unceremoniously. “Tell me then… what manner of mage are you? What is it that you seek?”

            Varric had been putting his weaponry away when he heard the sneering comment and felt that flare in his chest but he didn’t act on it. She was a big girl… and it wasn’t his place, he had to keep reminding himself that. Still… he didn’t appreciate the tone. He nodded in agreement with Marian as he followed her, Isabella having already taken off.

            Marian stilled and looked over her shoulder at him… such simple questions yet ones that no one had ever really asked her. She blinked and glanced at Varric before looking up at the smog covered night sky. “I just want to be allowed to live.”

            Fenris watched her carefully, he didn’t miss the silent exchange, nor the way that the dwarf glanced away. “Yet I have seen many crimes committed in the name of survival.”

            Marian’s brow perked a bit at him. “The same could be said for freedom.”

            Fenris’ lips formed a thin line as he straightened his spine. “I suppose it appears that I am ungrateful… If so…” He tried to calm his nerves… he didn’t trust mages, and this woman was no exception. “I apologize… for nothing could be further from the truth.” He took a few steps towards her and tossed her a bag of coin. “I did not find Danarius… but here is the coin… as Anso promised.”

            Marian caught the bag and gave it a bit of a feel, judging its weight. She nodded before fishing out a few sovereigns and holding them out to him, Varric forcing himself not to smile behind her. “Your share.”

            Fenris looked confused but he took the coin… grateful for it, since that was all he had. “For what?”

            Marian smirked. “For helping out in there.” She tossed him a wink before tucking the pouch away and fishing out a cigarette, lighting it in that hidden way of hers and moving on.

            Varric gave the broody elf a bit of a salute as he passed him, strolling on his way… which of course was on Marian’s tail.

            Fenris looked down at the coins in his hand before calling after them. “Should you ever find yourself in need of assistance… I would gladly render it.”

            Marian just threw up two fingers but Varric turned around, a cigarette between his teeth with a broad grin. “Check in at the Hanged Man… Isabella will know how to find us.” He chuckled, turning back around and catching up with Marian, and for reasons he didn’t want to understand, slid an arm around her waist as they strolled on, as if to stake his claim in full view of Fenris. “So, darlin’…” He drawled as they walked through the opulence that was Hightown. “What shall we do now?”

            Marian smirked up at him. “You can do whatever you like but _I_ have to get to work.”

            Varric scoffed and waved the hand that now held his smoke. “Come back to the Hanged Man with me… you don’t have to work _every_ night.”

            Marian shook her head at him. “Yes… I do. You know they depend on me for money… and this..” She patted the coin beneath her coat. “Is for the expedition, not for food.”

            Varric shook his head at her. “Aw, come on… look, I’ll make you a deal. If I can’t figure out how to make some money at the bar… _I’ll_ pay you for tonight.” He winced suddenly. “That.. sounded bad.”

            Marian couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Naughty, naughty.” She shoved at him a bit. “Fine… but I’m not playing cards with Isabella… she cheats.”

            Varric threw a hand up. “ _How_ do you know that, by the way? When do you go to the Hanged Man, I swear… it’s like I’m never there and I’m almost _always_ there.”

            Marian stifled her laugh. “I have my ways.” She wiggled her fingers at him. And so… they went to the Hanged Man.

By the time they got there, the bar itself was packed. But, around the corner was still pretty spacious. Marian got her water and Varric got his ale. They made it around to the other side and were bombarded with shouts from Varric’s booth. Merrill, Isabella, Anders, _and_ Carver were all there. And judging by the looks of things, all of them except Isabella were good and drunk. She was working on it though. Marian shook her head at the lot of them. She slid in the booth beside Carver who actually threw his arm around her neck.

“Hey Sis!” Carver was always a goofy drunk, he knew it though so that made it okay. And then there was Marian! He had waved her over enthusiastically and aw, there she was! He leaned his head on her shoulder and made a hmmm sound with a grin. “I was just telling them about how you used to sing at the tavern in Lothering!”

Varric had slid in on the other side beside Isabella and had his brows perked high at Junior. Marian though… didn’t look that surprised. But Junior’s rambling got his attention. “Oh really now?”

Marian shook her head quickly. “No… NO… NOO…” She had to keep saying it louder because Carver was saying Yes, YESSS, YESSS, at the same time. She grumbled and glared at him before looking  back at Varric. “Sometimes.” She took a drink of her water and tried to act like she wasn’t there.

Varric pulled down a great swallow of his ale before setting the mug on the table and leaning in, pinning Junior with an amused look. Oh, if there was ever a time to learn about Marian, it was right now. “Was she any good?”

Marian shook her head and tried to cover Carver’s mouth but he easily overpowered her and leaned forward, still holding her hands in a firm grip. “She’s really good. Like… like…” He swayed as he blinked before whispering really loudly. “An angel.” He gave Varric a wide eyed nod. “Father taught her how.” He yelped suddenly and held a hand up, waving it and blowing on it. “And he taught her that too.” He giggled when Merrill took it and made the pain go away.

Varric had a devilish look in his eye when he leaned back. “Oh, this I gotta see.” He gestured to the old standup piano just to the side of the booth, it was up on a sort of stage, more like a platform.

Marian shook her head at him. “No way in _hell_.” She folded her arms over her chest.

Varric leaned in. “Hey… you’re on the clock, remember?”

Marian gawked at him. “You were supposed to think of another way..”

Varric shrugged. “I just did.”

Carver leaned on her again. “Please…” He batted his eyes at her. “You haven’t sang in so long.” He frowned, his face falling a bit. “I miss it.” That… that came out true.

Marian sighed heavily and looked around… luckily… no one was paying much attention. She glared at Varric before jerking at her coat. “Fine.” She said in a rather clipped way as she stood, throwing her coat where she had been sitting. Carver clapped and Isabella whistled, Anders hooted and Varric, he just watched. Merrill clapped and smiled as big as she could. Marian just flipped them all off before she stepped up to the piano and lifted the cover, setting it up she took a stilling breath. _Hello…_ she whispered in her mind, running her fingers over the ivory but not pressing any… it’d been years since she’d last touched the keys… and the memories they brought with them always tugged at her. She sat at the bench and took a breath, shaking her head. “All right Carver… what do you want to hear…”

Carver thought for a moment before smiling. “Oh, oh! Hold my hand.”

Marian took a deep breath and shook her head at him. “Fine…” She ground out and set her hands on the keys… and closed her eyes, foot settling on the peddles. And begun.

Varric watched with a certain amount of amusement. She started with the piano and he gave a bit of a smirk, it was a quick beat. Carver was already moving in the booth, anxious and showing his age. Oh, it was all the drink… but he did miss the sound of Marian’s voice, it was the one thing about her that, in his opinion, came from their father that hadn’t ruined their entire family. Varric went still.. his eyes widened when she opened her mouth and brought forth her voice, seemingly out of nowhere and so full of emotion. Damned if he didn’t get a chill down his spine. He wasn’t the only one to take notice. Between the piano, her boot on the platform, and her own voice, she was pounding out a rhythm that had damn near everyone in this part of the tavern looking her way. Carver leapt out of the booth and drug a very willing Merrill with him, spun her around and started dancing. Isabella and Anders left just as quickly. Varric… just sat there… staring at her. He had never… known anyone… who could sing, let alone actually perform. It was… amazing. The way she moved on the bench, throwing her head back, lost to the music she was making… in her own world. Varric realized quickly that… this was her. There she was… again. Her soul was coming forth… right there for anyone who dared to see, he was hearing it. Once it was done, there was a roar of applause that made her jump. But Varric was still stunned.

Marian stood up quickly, a look of almost panic on her face as she gave a sort of bow and made a break for the booth. She hadn’t even noticed that the music had been turned down… but now that her impromptu concert was over, it was turned back up. She chuckled at Carver, who was still dancing with Merrill. She took a drink of her water and glanced at Varric for a second only to look back at him. He was… staring at her. She blinked a few times and looked away. “What?”

Varric shook his head slightly. “That was… worth ever silver.” He said in all seriousness.

Varric’s praise only made her squirm, she shook her head and waved her hand at him. “Nah.” She continued to look over the tavern, though her eyes kept returning to Carver and Merrill. She didn’t approve, only because Merrill toiled with magic she didn’t understand… but she was happy that Carver had taken interest in someone. Even if that someone was… dangerous. Maybe Carver’s interest would make Merrill realize that blood magic was a horrible, _horrible_ idea.

Varric sighed as she dismissed him but he still pried. “Who taught you how to play?” He swallowed down more of his ale and lounged back in the booth, falling back on his favorite pastime… gathering information.

Marian’s features faltered for but a moment, but it was there. “My father.” She didn’t elaborate.

Varric could almost hear the wall slam down between them. “Ah.” He could tell by the way she set her jaw that he would get no more from her on _that_ topic.

For the next couple of weeks, that was pretty much how their lives went. Varric would appear at Hawke’s door almost every morning and at first, Carver would insist on coming each time. But eventually, that stopped. He would either not be there or wouldn’t want to get out of bed. Fenris and Isabella usually rounded out their crew for the day, with Kable trailing along of course. Fenris, for all his surly demeanor had apparently taken a liking to Hawke… or he’d let it go that she was a mage… _or_ he’d chosen to ignore it. Either way, he hadn’t spoken of it again. They’d taken care of the job at the alienage, even though Fenris found himself at odds with Hawke’s decision to lose the boy Feynriel, he wasn’t against killing slavers. They’d had dealings with a particular squirrely dwarf Javaris and the Arishok, dealt with a Magistrate’s son… Fenris was more than happy to lend a hand with that one. They even went on a run and sort of rescued the Viscount’s boy… Carver actually showed up for that one. But the day Fenris first saw Gallows Square and by extension, the Gallows rising high above, however… had given him much to think about.

Marian hated coming to Gallows Square, for obvious reasons. The Templar presence here had always been ample and considering they were coming here to specifically meet with a few key members of the order… to answer job postings… didn’t help matters either. Each time she saw their jet black uniforms, their badges… their lyrium hazed eyes… she felt the trickle of panic dump into her veins, sweat bloom on the back of her neck and her pulse quicken. Fear. That’s what it was. Fear and panic. But she’d forced herself, like so many other times, to walk steady, stroll along as if she were perfectly comfortable being within mere feet of the knights. Carver had sent word ahead, answering the postings in her stead.. he’d actually shown up today. Only because she’d told him if he didn’t go, she’d ignore the jobs all together. And for some reason, he’d taken an interest in the order lately. So… there he was, sauntering beside her as if he belonged here. Varric was with her, as always. Kable at her side. And Fenris, the surprisingly useful broody elf.

Fenris’ stride slowed as he looked up at the massive tower that loomed overhead. “I’ve… heard about the Circle of Magi outside of the Imperium, but I’ve never been in one.” He looked pointedly at Marian. “Are you certain it is wise for you to be here?”

Marian froze in mid-step and turned, sending a hard look at Fenris before coming up to him, close enough to speak low. “Wiser if you keep your voice down.” She tried to chase away the nerves from her tone but failed. She shook her head at him as she turned away.

Fenris blinked at her… especially the tone. He glanced at Carver, who wasn’t even paying any attention and then to Varric, who was shaking his head at him. Fenris supposed that… perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say, given present company. So he just followed.

Marian felt like hitting that damned elf, what the _hell_. But she didn’t… she didn’t. The time spent in Gallows Square only served to put more of a strain on her and Carver’s relationship. Every chance he got it seemed, he would suck up to whichever Templar they were speaking to. Whether it was Ser Emeric, Ser Thrask… or the recruits. It was a nightmare as far as she was concerned, and she could get out of there fast enough… Carver, however, chose to stay and talk with the recruits a bit longer. Whatever… Marian walked at a steady clip through the narrow streets of Hightown until she felt her breathing slow, finally taking a moment to do the same.

Varric had stayed uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, he’d wanted to just observe but damned if Fenris didn’t put his foot in his mouth. What the hell, Broody? Varric also didn’t miss Carver’s comments nor the way he stayed behind, even though these were _his_ jobs. He almost couldn’t keep up with Marian when she made a hasty retreat, as if she couldn’t stay there a moment longer. Once she slowed, he tilted his head at her. “Everything steady, Hawke?”

Fenris likewise had to damn near trot to keep up, but he did. Once they were apparently taking a breather, he distanced himself but not so much so that he wasn’t with them.

Marian nodded at Varric before pinning Fenris with an irate look. “Fenris… next time… keep your fucking mouth shut.”

Fenris’ jaw tightened at her command. “If you fear that place so much then perhaps you shouldn’t go near it.”

Marian narrowed her eyes at him. “What concern of it is yours anyway? I’m just a _mage_ remember… you probably endorse the Circles…”

Fenris gave a firm nod. “I do. Freedom is a noble ideal but I’ve seen what mages will do with that freedom if given the chance.”

Marian damn near sneered at him. “So said the slave who set himself free.” She scoffed and just walked away from them and when Varric took a step after her, she threw up a hand at him… Kable was the only one welcome at her side.

Fenris’ spine stiffened at her comment and he glared at her as she walked away, he didn’t shy away from Varric’s angry gaze either. “It’s not the same.” He ground out.

Varric was actually surprised… it was the first time she’d withdrawn completely… even from him. So… naturally, he sent that pissed off look at Fenris. “You really don’t get it… do you, Broody?” He gave him a disbelieving look and taking a step towards him, feeling his temper boil inside his chest and creep up into his mind. “Next time you decide to cast stones… maybe you shouldn’t live in a fucking glass house.” He just shook his head and walked off… aiming for Lowtown and home, leaving that elf behind… at the moment, he couldn’t care less.

Between finding the missing recruit, and dealing with a rather terrifyingly high ranking Templar, Ser Cullen... and finding some very disgusting evidence for Ser Emeric… Marian was forced to endure Gallows Square more than a few times. Fenris hadn’t spoken of their little spat and neither had she and she was content to keep it that way. Carver was spending more and more time amongst the Templar recruits, for whatever reason… perhaps he had made some new friends, Marian couldn’t say for sure but she didn’t pry. The more interested in his new friends he got, the less interested he became in both Merrill and the impending expedition. Marian had found Merrill in the Hanged Man being comforted by Isabella more than once… it was actually quite sad. For all Merrill’s dabbling in forbidden magics… she was actually quite a sweet girl. Marian had sat on her bed one night and counted up her coin, coin hid in the wall from Gamlen, the coin for the expedition… that coupled with the offer of a job that came her way from Athenriel… she’d have enough. She eyed the coin and felt her nerves flip inside her chest… she didn’t like having this much coin… it freaked her out. But… there it was… ninety whole sovereigns just staring back at her. Just… one more job.

The job for Sister Petrice was… a complicated one. Beside the fact that Marian didn’t trust that Chantry Sister nor her Templar guard for a single second and just _knew_ she was being set up didn’t help matters either. But when the Sister revealed what was to be smuggled outside the city… Marian couldn’t turn it down. The massive Qunari mage that was collared and abused… wore his trappings on the outside. Even as Fenris, Varric, and Isabella all tried to tell her silently to turn it down… Marian ignored them. “We’ll do it.” She could almost hear the trio of groans in her head. Getting him out of the city was almost too easy… until of course, they ran into a group of Coterie. That’s when things got really… heated. The Qunari… Ketojen… or so the Sister called him… had defended her. Once the battle was over… he still stood there engulfed in flames.

Marian was breathing heavily as she trotted over to the Ketojen. “Ketojen?” She shook her head impatiently before just walking through the fire, noticing how the Qunari’s eyes widened slightly. She stood before him and shook her head. “Ease your storm… the threat has passed.” The flames dissipated. Marian nodded to him and said nothing more.

Fenris watched on with a certain amount of detachment… yet… he marveled at her courage. A _saarebas_ without a leash was a dangerous creature… and there she was, commanding it so gently. And the beast listened to her, without question. Perhaps it was so used to following… or perhaps it was something more. Still… she was brave.

Varric didn’t like this job… _at all_. Isabella shared that sentiment. But they got him out of the city. What awaited them on the other side however… had them all on edge. Varric didn’t miss the subtle flinch around Marian’s eyes when the Qunari, _Arvarad_ , cast his insults at her for being a mage. The fight was easy… considering the _saarebas_ was leashed. Varric still didn’t understand why the _saarebas_ did what he did that day by the coast… but what confused him more… was what Marian had said.

Marian held the talisman the Ketojen had given her… cradling it loosely as the last of his ashes spread into the wind. Varric had just asked why he had done that, he was free. She felt Fenris near and Isabella not far off either. She glanced at Varric before looking out over the sea. “Because he wasn’t free… not really. Someone like him will never find true freedom in this world. The Qun didn’t collar him… Thedas did.” She shook her head and walked off, tucking the talisman away.


	14. Chapter 14

They were all quiet the entire way back to the city. Their dealings with Sister Petice proved to be shady but… she paid up and they all went their separate ways. Varric went home, bypassing his nightly jaunt at the Hanged Man. His mind was all twisted up on him. He lit the fire in the baja style chimney and a few oil lamps, never fearing for his privacy since he knew well the other warehouses around were all vacant on the top floors, he peeled off his clothes, wincing at his sore muscles before climbing into the shower and washing off the day. The entire time in the shower he thought about what Marian had said. He’d never given the whole mage thing much thought until he met her… and now, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it on the whole. He knew that she didn’t belong in the Circle… but a mage like Anders? Or Merrill if she went dark side with her blood magic? But that was the rub, wasn’t it? How do you choose the good from the bad? And who makes that choice? One could give themselves a headache just thinking about it. He had just gotten dried off and a pair of flannel pants on when he heard his lift engage. He blinked at that and picked up one of his revolvers and waited at the everything table. He disarmed it and set it down on the table as soon as he saw Marian’s striking eyes, it was as if… in the dim light they were _more_ vibrant and the lamp light only accentuated that fact. “Hey…” He looked confused… it was… really late, actually. He got even _more_ confused when he noticed that Kable was sitting beside her and he saw the duffle at her feet plus the all around… defeated way she was standing there as he opened the grates. “What’s… going on?”

Marian had been walking around Lowtown for about an hour, the duffle thrown on her back. When she’d gotten home tonight, Carver had actually been there. She’d told him that they’d done it… they got all the coin they needed for the expedition. But… he didn’t seem that interested… so she suggested that perhaps he shouldn’t go. Granted… she probably could have eased up on the attitude but damn, he’d been all weird for weeks. He could have at least pretended to be somewhat excited about it. Instead… it had started another fight. Even Mother had tried to get on her side, insisting that him staying was actually a good idea. Which naturally, only made matters worse. He’d used everything he could think of to hurt her… which was what he did when he got really angry. He got childish. Even going so far as to throw their father in her face. Which garnered a gasp from Leandra… but no real defense. Even though Kable had been ready and willing to pounce on Carver. Then… there was a lot of gasping and yelling for her to _get out_ from Gamlen. She’d… sort of… slipped. Carver throwing that in her face too. So she’d packed her bag and left… appreciating that even though Leandra had been frightened… she’d told her to be careful out there. So… she’d walked around… before she came here. It was only one in the morning but that counted as morning… didn’t it? She looked up at Varric and gave a sort of shrug. “I uh… have all that coin.” She found her voice… and hated that it sounded so… drained. “And um… I just… I wanted to bring it over… ya know… so it wouldn’t get… stolen or something.” She nodded, as if it would convince herself that it was the truth. And it was… partially. Kable snorted and took the handles of her duffle bag in his teeth and drug it into the loft, he didn’t give a _fuck_. “Kable…” She sighed and reached for the bag, somewhat chasing him but her heart wasn’t really in it.

Varric made a face that said he didn’t believe her for a second… but not in a condescending way. Then the dog apparently decided they were coming in. Once she was in, Varric just closed the grates to his lift and locked it. “Well… good. We can get the expedition under way then.” He watched as the dog drug her bag around the corner and disappeared with it… and how she didn’t chase him after a few steps. “Marian… what’s going on?” He made his way closer to her and frowned a bit, concern marring his features. “The truth this time.”

Marian sighed heavily as she straightened, _go on, take it.._ she thought. Then she heard Varric locking up and suddenly… it was as if she just arrived at Kirkwall all over again. She nodded at his comments but turned towards him at his softer words. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and gave a bit of a shrug. “I…” She blinked a few times and cursed under her breath at the tears that welled. Dammit all, why in the hell did she think it was okay to cry in front of him? “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She said it so quietly.. even she heard the shame in her voice. She shook her head and quickly looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the buttons on her open coat.

Varric’s jaw clinched at the look on her face and in her eyes… the shame he heard in her voice and the words she said. He settled his hands on his hips. “What happened?”

Marian shook her head at him. “Nothing that wouldn’t have happened sooner or later… let’s just say that… I hope the expedition happens soon and that it pays off…” She couldn’t look at him… finding her boots extremely interesting, she stared at them instead. “So I can find a place to live when we get back.”

Varric cursed under his breath and took a deep breath. “Fucking Carver.” He didn’t need to know the particulars but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He reached for her hands, taking them gently. “You can stay here.” He smirked when she shook her head. “It’ll only be for a few days.” He reassured her… and himself. He had a feeling… this was probably not the best idea… but he couldn’t turn her away… not that she asked. And he knew she was too proud to ask. She’d sleep in Darktown before asking anyone for help. “You can sleep in my bed tonight… we’ll figure something else out tomorrow.”

Marian’s chest tightened at his offer… and reassurance. She didn’t deserve his kindness, she’d done nothing to earn it. She tried to still her insides, the tremble that had been there since earlier in the evening. She glanced up at him and tried to offer a smile… but it wouldn’t come, her expression… was just relieved. “Now you’re just trying to get me into bed...”

Varric felt that look like a bolt of lightning. He’d never seen her so… vulnerable. Even before… he’d caught just glimpses of her, the real her. But this? Was a whole different level. She was… raw. Whatever the hell happened with her family… whatever Carver had done… had wounded her… big time. And it pissed _him_ off. But he didn’t let her see that. He smirked and took her hand before leading her around to the other side of the loft. “Ya caught me.”

Marian rolled her eyes at his bravado as she followed him. “Mmhm.” She was about to give him a smirk when she saw Kable. “Kable! No… get _down._ ” Of course, he was stretched out on the bed.

Varric was looking over his shoulder at her when she spoke up, he looked quickly and had to laugh a bit. “He’s fine… it’s comfortable, I don’t blame him.” He let go of her hand and gestured to the bed. “I’ll take the chair.” He stepped around her and started clearing his chair of some of the papers he’d just dumped in it earlier.

Marian frowned slightly at him. “Varric… I’ll take the chair.” She pulled her coat off and laid it over her bag, which Kable had left on the floor behind said chair.

Varric shook his head at her. “Nope.”

Marian took a deep breath as she settled her hands on her hips. “I’m not about to kick you out of your bed.” She gave him _a look_. The look that said she wouldn’t be moved on this. “Bad enough you have to put me up for a few days…”

Varric straightened and raised a brow at her… giving her a look right back. He sucked on a molar, like he did when he was getting irritated. “No.”

Marian narrowed her eyes at him before throwing a hand up. “Ya know what… we’re both adults… the bed’s big enough for both of us.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and untied her boots before kicking them off and pushing them over to join her bag before standing back up and unsnapping her belt and removing it with one swift pull, her staff clattering to the floor.

Varric raised _both_ brows at her suggestion that rendered him speechless for a moment. He canted his jaw to the side for a moment before taking a stilling breath. “Yeah… sure.” He shook his head slightly before just… putting all those papers back. He crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his hands under his biceps… suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable and self-conscious. He watched her intently and when her staff fell, he bent low and picked it up… beating her to it. He’d never really paid much attention to it before. It was… actually quite beautiful and surprisingly heavy. It was delicately carved and he caught the imagery immediately. “This is… really nice, Mare.”

Marian looked as uncomfortable as he felt a moment ago as she watched him handle her staff. She took it from him cautiously before giving it a bit of a twist in her hand and it extended sharply, the eyes of the carved Hawke flashing just as hers did. She offered it back to him. “It was my father’s…” She said low.

Varric’s eyes widened as the staff revealed its true length… he’d seen her extend it before but never up close. He expected a sound or… something… but it was silent. He also didn’t expect the eyes to flash. He took it back easily for how steady it felt, finding that it moved… smoothly as he swapped hands. He glanced back at her suddenly when she spoke. It was rare that she spoke of her father… he didn’t even know the man’s name. He knew… absolutely nothing about him. He only knew that he wasn’t with them. In that one sentence… that one small piece of information… he gathered that he… wasn’t with _anyone_. “How long?”

Marian took the staff back and ran her thumb over one of the carvings, her pupils shining as it collapsed and she looked at the worn wood with a guarded gaze before she turned and set it atop her coat, glancing back at him she was trying to decide whether or not to tell him or… just let it alone. She apparently decided to trust him with this. “Four years.” She had looked away once she spoke though.

Varric nodded… and watched how she shut that part of her away from him. He didn’t blame her, he didn’t like talking about stuff like that either. But… fair is fair. “Eight years… for my Mother… Twenty… Seven? For my Father.” He said the first as guarded as she had been… but the last was said while squinting just slightly before he took the few steps over to his bed and pulled the blankets up, jerking at them since Kable was laying on a great deal of them but he got enough and climbed in, settling down with a groan on his back.

Marian looked at him quietly… everything about the look she gave him was just… quiet. She swallowed harshly before nodding and looking around at the oil lamps that were lit and then back at him… she lifted her hand and it was as if she caught an invisible insect when the flames just went out, she left the fire going in his chimney though. She walked over to the other side of the bed and unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them off quickly before ducking beneath the covers, feeling rather bashful for how short her thermal was. She nudged at Kable from under the blanket and took a deep breath… trying to ignore the awkwardness, stretching the blanket over her chest and plopping her arms on top before she felt Kable crawl on his stomach up the bed beside her, she gave a small smile in the near darkness and ran a hand over his brow and down the side of his muzzle. “Hey boy…” She whispered to him.

Varric had glanced at her at first… seeing the way she looked at him but then she put out his lamps and he glanced up over his head, as if he could see through the half wall. He gave a frowning nod to himself but said nothing… hearing her move around and then feeling the bed dip. Then the dog was on the move and he glared at where he thought he was, his bed wasn’t _that_ big and he wasn’t used to having it so crowded, which it quickly became when Kable came up between them. But then he heard her gentle voice in the darkness and his insides did… weird things. He wasn’t sure how he felt about having her here. Oh, he was fine about having her here in his loft… but here in his bed? It was… surprisingly all right. But… not all right at the same time. “Dammit…” He hissed as Kable’s paw dug into his hip. “Kable, you gotta move bud.”

Kable was worried over Marian… the night had been… taxing… to say the least. He was _that_ close to attacking Carver tonight. And if _he_ was that close, he was surprised that Marian hadn’t done more than what she had done. Which, wasn’t that bad. She hadn’t hurt anyone and it was more of a severe warning than anything else. He was scared in the lift until he caught a familiar scent… then, he was on board… until she stalled… he’d had enough of wandering around the city. She was tired and needed a safe place to go. And the dwarf was safe. Kable might be more than a dog but he was still a dog… and he just _knew_ about people and this dwarf? He was good for her and good _to_ her. He wouldn’t hurt her and he wouldn’t turn her away. But… his bed _was_ a bit small for the three of them like this… so he dutifully stood up and turned around… moving to the end of the bed and laid across Marian’s legs, like he usually did… especially on night’s like this one. He knew she’d need the extra weight… the grounding.

Marian smirked as Kable actually listened to him, knowing that the mabari could very well have chosen not to. She felt him lay over her legs and instantly felt better. She felt the muscles in her shoulders starting to ease as she took a steadying breath. She chastised herself in her head… _say thank you… damn Marian… say… something!_ She wasn’t built that way though… and sometimes, times like this for instance… she hated it. She looked over at Varric, barely making him out in the darkness, she reached for him… brushing some of his hair off his brow gently.

Varric was laying there… forcing himself to be still and just… breath. He’d also forced himself to keep his eyes closed, knowing that sooner or later, sleep would have to come and find him, especially now that Kable had finally settled. Then he felt the softest of touch… so much so that it hadn’t even startled him. Her fingertips were warm against him and he couldn’t help but turn his face towards her, feeling the pull as sure as if she had tugged him in that direction. He took a deep breath and reached up instead, tugging at the sleeve of her thermal until he had her hand in his, giving it a squeeze and settling there on the bed between them, content to just continue holding it… but she pulled away and he felt the sudden tightness across his chest from it. He shook his head slightly at himself before rolling onto his side away from her and getting comfortable.

The next day saw the three of them heading to the Merchant’s Quarter and to Bartrand’s office where Marian just dropped the bag of coin on Bartrand’s desk with a smirk. Bartrand baulked at the proposal of a partner but when Varric laid the maps over top the coin, he caved and a contract was drafted and signed. Varric couldn’t help the flare of pride in his chest at watching how Marian lounged in Bartrand’s office and hashed out the fine print like a pro, countering his older brother like some aging Carta dwarf. Nothing got past her on the contract. What did surprise him though was the signet ring she used, a ring he hadn’t even noticed. Oh, he noticed she wore a ring, but he didn’t realize it was a signet. Bartrand had pawned their family’s signet ring to fund the expedition so he was forced to actually sign the contract and when he slid the contract towards her, the look on his face was priceless, as far as Varric was concerned. She rocked her fist onto the paper without a single drop of wax and using only her gift, branded her sigil onto the contract. The scent of singed paper wafting up from the fresh emblem of a runic stylized hawk. He focused on her ring then… it wasn’t gold and large like his brother’s… it was reddish and a bit thinner, but no less aged. He realized quickly that it was drakestone, no other metal would be able to survive repeated heating. He also didn’t miss how she hid it well, sliding the crest around so that only a band appeared on the outside, nor did he miss the guarded look she gave him once it was done.

It took three days to get everything in order for the expedition. So… for three days and three more nights, Marian had to co-exist amongst Varric’s things. The day the contract was signed she had returned to the loft though Varric hadn’t. She’d moved a great deal of Orzammar relics further back into the space and was surprised to find a couch… stuffy and dust covered but a couch! She hooted when she found it causing Kable to tilt his head at her. She had been thinking she was going to have to go find a cot of some kind but the couch would work just fine. She pulled it out, with a lot of tugging, cursing and groaning… dusted it off (which resulted in a lot of coughing from her and sneezing from Kable). She stole a pillow from Varric’s bed and pulled her threadbare blanket from her pack and stood back, hands on her hips and nodded at her new… bed? She glanced down at Kable and gave him a healthy scratch behind an ear. “It’s not perfect but it’s softer than the floor…” _Because I am so not sleeping in that bed with him again… that was just too freaking weird._ Considering how she had woken up… she felt a tingle go down her spine and she jerked from it. It wasn’t a bad sensation but it wasn’t good either. She had woken up with the beginnings of dawn out of habit… and found his arm thrown around her abdomen and… well he was basically wrapped around her and she apparently had welcomed the embrace for how she was equally wrapped around him. At first she was panicked… then she was just confused… but she eased herself out from his hold and was beyond thankful that he hadn’t woken. She’d gotten dressed and sat in his chair with her only book, a worn out copy from ages past… making it seem that Varric had invaded ‘her’ side of the bed _after_ she had already left it. Once _all_ of that was done, the couch made up, she set her duffle beside it and gave another firm nod before heading back out, Kable alongside her as always. She spent the day between the docks and the quarter, utilizing her ability to _lean_ on certain people for supplies.

Varric returned to his loft that afternoon, knowing that Marian would not be there. He wanted to kind of.. clean up? He wasn’t even sure… but he wanted to make it easier for her to be there? He cursed under his breath as he walked off the lift and immediately noticed the couch. He blinked at his Mother’s couch… swallowing against the tightness of his throat. He walked over to it and frowned, plucking up the threadbare blanket that Marian had obviously put there and one of his pillows. He looked past the couch and noticed that she’d rearranged some of his brother’s stuff, stacking it carefully. No doubt she had just been trying to make room when she’d discovered the couch. He couldn’t blame her… but… he still wasn’t sure how he felt about having it so… out in the open. He let the blanket fall back where it was and shook his head slightly… he also wasn’t sure how he felt about her tucking herself over here… amongst the forgotten and the stored relics of his family’s long since irrelevant past. He turned away and went about picking up his loft, at least throwing away the numerous take out cartons he apparently liked to collect. In three days they were going to be heading down into the Deep Roads. His brother was excited, as was pretty much everyone else that had signed on… except himself of course. He was born on the surface… he didn’t long for the caves like his brother did. In fact… he was pretty content to never go underground. But… it was a venture that was a necessary evil, as far as he was concerned.


	15. Chapter 15

The days went by in a sort of blur… Varric couldn’t avoid the quarter anymore and as such, both Marian and himself spent much of their days in the quarter preparing for the expedition, loading the trucks and double checking lists and rosters. Varric spent his evenings at the Hanged Man, as per the usual and Marian disappeared, as far as Varric knew. But she was always sacked out on the couch when he got home, Kable standing at attention every time he opened the grates to the lift, as if the dog had been ready to pounce not a moment before. Varric didn’t mind the mabari greeting him each night, it was actually kind of nice. He also didn’t mind the plate of food that was always left for him on the everything table. It was never much, just something from a street vender but… it meant something to him that she’d even think to get him something. He knew she had to be working in the evenings to afford it… that part, he didn’t care for. But… he didn’t say anything, he just made sure he brought her a coffee each morning when he saw her in the quarter. The nights were… different though. He felt the space between them like a cavern in his loft. But he let it be.

The morning of the expedition finally came and the quarter was buzzing with activity. Bartrand was barking orders as he stormed around with a mug of coffee clutched in his hand while Varric urged him to calm down and relax. More than one dwarf was buried down into the engine of each truck, checking for the tenth time that everything was in order. Marian had counted and recounted the fuel cells stored in the side boxes of the vehicles to make sure they had more than enough to get to where they were going and to get back. Everything seemed to be in order so Bartrand gathered everyone around and began giving his speech. It wasn’t much but it seemed to get everyone in the treasure hunting mood, the promise of riches was enough to do that to just about anyone. Marian stood off to the side, smoking a cigarette and laughing every now and again at Bartrand’s word usage. Varric leaning on the truck beside her giving running commentary, Kable sitting at their feet. That’s when Marian heard her Mother’s voice, gentle and not too far away, but far enough away as to not to disturb the speech.

“Marian.” Leandra was dressed much as she always was, simple and plain. She held a bundle in her hands, her hair braided behind her and swept away from her face.

Marian glanced over and immediately dropped her cigarette and crushed it under her boot as she walked away from Varric and the group, quickly joined the woman. “Mother… what are you doing here?” She looked around and saw… no one was with her.

Leandra gave her a look of _seriously?_ “You think I wouldn’t come to see you off?” Leandra tucked some of Marian’s hair behind her ear. “No matter what happens between our family… between you and Carver or even me… especially Gamlen… you are still and always will be my baby girl.” She felt the tears prick her eyes but chose to ignore them. “And I couldn’t send you off without something to remind you of where you came from.” She held the bundle out to her.

Marian gave her a smile at the touch and words alike, feeling the gentle touch like a balm. No matter how old one got… a Mother’s touch could still ease your heart. At least that’s how it was for her. She glanced down at the bundle and laughed a bit before taking it, holding it up slightly. “Thanks Mom.” She quickly found herself ensnared in a fierce embrace.

Leandra couldn’t withstand it any longer, she had Marian in her arms not a moment later. Blue eyes flicking upwards as she felt the sting of tears again, even as she ran a hand down Marian’s braid, noticing how much longer it was now… had she been paying so little attention... “You come back… you hear me.” It wasn’t a question. “You have to come back.” The last was said softer but no less firm.

Marian took a ragged breath and surrendered to the embrace, wrapping her arms around her Mother even as she still held the bundle. Hearing her words, she nodded. “I will.” She whispered into her Mother’s graying hair. “And we’ll all be better for it when I do.”

Leandra just nodded as she pulled away, straightening Marian’s coat collar as she did. “I’ll give Carver your love.” And she would… but she knew it would be ill received. Carver hadn’t even responded to her suggestion that he accompany her to wish Marian well. She did her best not to let her tears fall as Marian walked off and rejoined that dwarf friend of hers, the surly elf that stood nearby and that dreadfully foul mouthed pirate. It gave Leandra comfort though, knowing that Kable was with her.

The trip to the Deep Roads entrance took four days all by itself. Bartrand insisted that Marian ride in the truck with him… he didn’t realize that that meant there’d also be a mabari and an elf joining her nor did he realize that his younger brother would insist on squeezing in as well. Bartrand was relieved when the pirate wench opted to ride in another truck. He had hoped that the human would sit up front with him so he could get a bead on her intentions but Varric took shotgun. Bartrand kept a weather eye on the rearview, watching the human as closely as he could. If him and his brother spoke about things other than business, he would have found him and Varric aligned in their thoughts that Marian had almost no tells, she gave nearly nothing away… dammit. She looked _too_ comfortable the entire time, even though she was crammed in a too small backseat with that ridiculously large hound that was either laying across her lap or sitting where she could lean against him. The elf on the other hand just looked pissed off all the time, so there was no getting anything off of him either. And then there was Varric… who never did shut up on long trips. Bartrand didn’t miss how Marian kept up with his brother in the smartass department though and almost always had a comment to throw in with whatever Varric was talking about. Even the elf would grunt every now and again. Marian shared the Ferelden soda bread with them all though, Bartrand was surprised by her generosity… Fenris was shocked as well.

In truth, Marian was happy to be outside the city. Away from the stresses there, away from all that… brown. She also adored how Kable would cram his head past Bartrand’s seat to sniff at the open window, which absolutely annoyed the eldest Tethras brother. It was fine, he deserved it… and he didn’t dare tell the mabari no. Each time they stopped for the night, she opted to sleep in the truck, laid out across the backseat while Kable stuffed himself in the floorboard. Fenris took the front seat… it was as if neither of them felt like they belonged amongst the fifty-odd dwarves. Isabella was fine with them, naturally. The first night, Marian was grateful that Batrand had left the canvas roof pulled off of the truck… she spent more time than she should have just staring at the stars. It was alright, she took a nap the next day. The second night, however… it was too cold for the canvas to be off. Not that it bothered her any… she was a walking furnace if she so chose to be. She had just started to drift off when she heard the telling sound of teeth chattering… she cracked an eye and peered through the gap in the seats and saw Fenris shivering. She frowned slightly before stretching her gift… just a bit… she closed her eyes quickly when he jerked and lifted his head, no doubt feeling the warmth. Not like she could hide the subtle glow coming off her skin… but she could feign sleep. The third night was no less chilled but this time… Fenris did not stay quiet…

“Who taught you… how to use your magic, I mean?” Fenris was laying on his side, back to the front seats, cramped as it was… it was far better than the ground he supposed… and honestly, he welcomed the warmth he knew she was creating. His voice rumbled out of him quietly… as if it would be frightened away if he spoke too loudly.

Marian was lounging on her back, her boots propped up on the windowsill, ankles crossed, handrolled in her hand. She exhaled and gave the front seats a sidelong glance before answering just as low. “My father.”

Fenris thought about leaving it at that but… he wanted to know. Marian had already given him pause more than once on his opinion of mages, though it was so engrained in him. “Was he.. an apostate? That’s what… they’re called here, yeah?”

Marian smirked to herself, feeling the familiar sting to her eyes and tightness to her chest whenever she thought of him. She shifted to the side and dug into her back pocket, pulling out the worn picture of him and looking at it… the light cast from her eyes more than enough to see it. “He was in the circle first… but yeah, he was an apostate.”

Fenris heard her shifting around so he rolled over and sat up, climbing over the seats and settled as she moved her legs to the side. He’d never been overly comfortable with anyone… but Marian was different. She was someone who just… anyone could be comfortable around her. He settled opposite her, leaning against the door of the truck. “I thought mages couldn’t leave the circle.”

Marian scooted her feet over a bit, giving him room as the backseat suddenly got pretty damn crowded… too crowded for Kable, who quickly jumped into the front seat and took Fenris’ previous spot. She offered the picture to Fenris. “They can’t… he escaped.” She smirked as she took another drag off the cigarette, offering him one only for him to shake his head, he never took one but she still offered. “A templar… named Ser Carver helped him get out. He and my Mother fled Kirkwall and went back to his homeland.”

Fenris took the worn picture, holding it up so the distant camp lights that shone in through the windows illuminated it. He wasn’t surprised to see the similarities but he was surprised to see a rather muscular man, mages typically weren’t built with that physic… he handed it back to her, not missing how she handled it with such reverence. “That must have been dangerous… what would make them risk such a thing? Ferelden is a long way to run.”

Marian took the picture back and frowned at it slightly before tucking it away again. She looked at Fenris carefully for a moment before swallowing down the guilt she always felt. “Me.” She finished the cigarette and tossed it over her head and out the window. “They were naughty rebellious ones, my parents.” She smirked a bit, slipping her hands behind her head. “I was born in Jader about six months later.”

Fenris raised his brows and actually didn’t look pissed off for once. “That’s… I bet that was quite the scandal.” He almost felt as though he were going to laugh. “So… your father was trained by the circle… and he then taught you. He was a pyromancer as well then?”

Marian smirked at his look and nodded in agreement before growing a bit uncomfortable with his prying. She shook her head as she looked away. “No… he was a um… spirit healer?” She cleared her throat and swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Like my sister. I uh…” She blinked a few times but quickly managed to calm herself. “I apparently take after my father’s father’s father.”

Fenris watched her grow uncomfortable and anxious over the subject. He had heard rumored mention of a sister but had only known that there was no sister now. He could only guess what that meant. He didn’t pry on that. But he did know mages, at least… types of mages. He blinked at the classifications though. “Spirit Healers are very rare. Your family would have been prized in Tevinter.” He didn’t even sneer when he said it. “But you would have been… sought after even more so.”

Marian nodded in a sort of distracted way. “Yeah. I know… collared even in the Imperium.” She took a breath and gave a bit of a shrug. “Good thing we aren’t there, huh?”

Fenris frowned slightly at her comment… t’was true though. Even in the Imperium, Pyromancers were feared for their volatile nature. They were often collared and their minds enslaved to ensure that they could be controlled. The power they wielded was devastating and they often lost control far too easily, their magic being so closely tied to their emotions, primarily their anger. To think of how easy it was for one to become angry, agitated, or even a bit displeased… it was no wonder they were treated as such. But Fenris had witnessed Marian’s ability to control her magic to a degree that was almost clinical. With a detachment that paralleled even the most vigilant Templar. He smirked at her last words though. “A very good thing.” For a variety of reasons. “What was your father’s name?” He asked at last… he wanted to put a name to the face.

Marian looked at him much as she usually did when it came to the topic… guarded. “Malcolm.”

Fenris nodded. “Thank you for telling me, Hawke.” And he meant it… he suspected, and knew he was right, that… this wasn’t easy for her to speak of… and that she probably didn’t talk about it with many people.

Marian narrowed her eyes at him slightly. “I tell you this so you will understand… that my father was a real person… he was a mage… who abandoned his life… everything he knew… his entire world… he threw it all to the wind… for the love of a woman and the hope of a family… the dream of freedom. That he was strong, brave… smart, compassionate… and never once in all his years did he dabble in blood magic or demons. That he was a _good_ man and a kind… loving father. He taught two mages to use their gifts with such focus and skill that one sits before you today… warming you against the chill of the night without a thought not to. All of this… so you will understand… that just because someone is a mage… doesn’t mean that that is all they are. I am a mage… but I’m also a person… and that we… are not so different.”

Fenris’ lips formed a thin line as he listened to her low spoken words, they held no ill will or chastising tone. They were said simply and matter-of-factly. Words he did not want to hear. Words that lit anger in his heart over the injustice that was his life. But the more time he spent around this woman, the harder it was becoming to associate her with the image of the evil mage in his mind. He was quiet for more than a minute before speaking. “What happened to him?” The question slid past his lips without thought and the way her gaze flared and hardened made him wish he could recall the words.

Marian stilled the tremor that went through her at the thought. “He was killed.” She couldn’t say more than that. She lifted her head slightly and tilted it back before she settled it again, closing her eyes and making it apparent that she’d speak no more tonight.

Fenris frowned at her words but accepted her silence after… she had given him much to think on… even though he didn’t want to. His very soul rebelled against what she had said.

            Varric felt like a total sleaze as he leaned against the truck, having heard the conversation in its entirety. Part of him was insanely jealous that Marian had told Fenris about her father and not him… but then again… he’d never actually asked either. So… he kind of couldn’t blame the elf for that one. But… it didn’t lighten the load any. The other part didn’t miss the way her words were clipped at the end. There was far more that went on than what she was saying but damned if he was going to hop up on the running board and ask her about it now. He just shook his head and finished his cigarette.

            The Deep Roads was like nothing Varric had ever seen before, it was… insanely huge and way too far underground for his liking. He didn’t want to admit it but it made him feel better that Marian and Kable were there. Even though they had quite a sizeable group with them… it never hurt to have a mage on hand. The expedition was going pretty good… until it… wasn’t. It… so… wasn’t. Varric should have known… he should have fucking known it the moment he saw that damned idol. It was lyrium but it was a different kind of lyrium. Marian had listed away from it when she came up to it and handled it like it was made of… well… shit, really… for the way she sneered at it. They’d been in the Deep Roads for a week, finding all kinds of things… and then they found the Thaig. Bartrand had been beside himself when they started exploring it. Varric should have guessed that Bartrand would have done something backwards and… shitty. But he never would have suspected that his own brother would have left him down there to die. As soon as Bartrand had that damned idol in his hand… he locked him in the Thaig. Him… Marian, Fenris, Isabella, and Kable too. Varric was beyond pissed off… he must have yelled and kicked at that door for at least an hour before Marian finally got him to back off.

Varric would never forget how firm Marian’s hand had been on his shoulder, nor how strong her words were when she told him it was enough. How she turned away from the door and drew her staff, threw her arm out slightly to get her sleeve up and reveal her wide leather bracelet… or what he always assumed was just a bracelet. He watched on as runes flashed on the band, runes he’d never noticed, and a compass needle appeared above it, spun around a few times before providing her with a firm heading. Isabella had been repeating the same word over and over under her breath, _shit_. Fenris had stayed quiet, as per the usual… but no one missed the look of extreme rage on his features nor the look of fear in his eyes. But Marian was rock steady as she lead the way. Varric found his strength in that… but he didn’t miss the subtle tremor in her hands nor the slightly wide eyed look she held as she peered around corners and corridors, how Kable kept so close to her. Nor did he miss her hyper vigilance. It took them only a week to get back to the surface using Marian’s compass… but they didn’t leave empty handed… far from it. They were surprised even still to find that they were the first ones out… so naturally, they took a truck for themselves, noting though that one had already been taken. Varric felt that rage anew and cursed Bartrand the entire way back to Kirkwall. Even their treasure hoard couldn’t ebb his anger.

Once the group returned to Kirkwall, exhausted but alive, they all went their separate ways. Isabella and Fenris went home probably to both sleep for a week. Varric aimed for his brother’s office to start tracking his ass down… and Marian went to Gamlen’s, to check in.

Marian was beyond exhausted and Kable was no better off as they made way to Gamlen’s. She wasn’t sure how they’d be received… but she wanted to at least let them know that she was back and alive. And by them… she meant Mother. She had just turned the corner when she saw the sleek black SUV parked out front and damned if fear didn’t dump into her. But she stilled herself… it was an entire complex and… they didn’t send just one for a mage. They could be here for… anyone really. She straightened her coat and casually made her way up the stairs and stalled out… Gamlen’s door was open and a Templar was standing just inside. She swallowed harshly and held a hand down to take hold of Kable’s harness. They weren’t here for her… they would have sent more, she was sure of that. She’d witnessed a mage capture before. So, she kept on going, pausing at the door and clearing her throat as she peeked in. The unknown Templar glanced down and over his shoulder at her but stepped aside.

Gamlen was not that far from the door and he turned around at the sound, his brow creased with worry that didn’t let up when he saw her. “Marian…” He held a hand out to her and gestured for her to come in. He wasn’t sure how she was going to react to what was going on… but he was glad she had returned from the expedition. He wasn’t a total jackass, though he wasn’t proud of how he’d reacted the last time he saw her.

Marian raised her brows slightly but dutifully entered, feeling her nerves spike as she walked past the Templar, once she was close enough to Gamlen she spoke low to him. “What’s… what’s going on?” Gamlen was poised to answer her when Leandra and Carver came out of the side bedroom, Carver with a bag… and wearing a recruit uniform. Marian’s spine straightened immediately as her eyes flared at the sight. She swallowed harshly and tightened her hold on Kable’s collar when the mabari let loose a low growl, his ears flattening against his broad skull.

Carver was there, just picking up a few things, what few things he was allowed to have. Which meant… just some clothes really. He’d snuck in a picture but that was all. He’d also taken the opportunity to leave behind some things that he wasn’t allowed. He had just walked out of his old room, his attention focused on his Mother when he heard the threatening growl and his step faltered. He didn’t want to look but he did… and though part of him was elated to see Marian back and whole… a great deal of him had wished he had done this earlier, so he didn’t have to face her… and the look she had on her face and in her eyes. He could see the fear trailing the edges of those eyes, eyes of their father. He could see the shock in the way her lips were slack… and the betrayal on its heels as she pinched those lips back together and kicked her chin up just slightly. He could see the hurt as the tendons in her neck flexed when she visibly swallowed. He couldn’t hold her eye… he looked back at Mother and gave her a final hug. “I have to go.” He said it low but there was no shame, he had made his choice. It had been months in the making really. He stepped away from her and made for the door, pausing when he neared Marian. “Sister…” He didn’t know why, perhaps it was habit, or something more… but he reached for her only to jerk back. Kable’s vicious growling bark and lunge felt like a slap to the face, a betrayal in itself. He looked down at the mabari and saw no hint of the hound he knew… only malice stared back at him. He saw Marian’s grip on the dog’s harness and knew… it was the only thing keeping him at bay. He shot his gaze back up to hers and his features hardened once more. He didn’t speak to her again, he simply looked to the Templar and nodded. They both left without another word.

Leandra had a hand over her mouth at Kable’s outburst but she didn’t say anything, she didn’t dare. She’d wanted to rush to Marian the moment she saw her but… she didn’t dare that either. Gamlen had stepped away rather quickly, even though the hound wasn’t even near _him_. The door clicked shut behind the Templar.. _Templars_ , and Leandra released the breath she had been holding and finally took rushed steps towards Marian only to pull up short for the look Kable gave her. The mabari was on edge… and for the first time… Leandra wondered about him. “Marian… I am so glad you’re safe.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ommmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Marian’s world shifted upon its axis when she saw Carver in that uniform. It was as if her mind was still trying to… catch up to what had just happened. It was a good thing… for that was the reason for her grip upon Kable. Another good thing… for she would have screamed all manner of insults at him, rained down her fury upon him… for that single betrayal. Then… he was gone. She looked around as if in a daze… what… was happening? She blinked at her Mother when she approached, her grip still iron upon Kable’s harness, the wide leather biting into her palm. She just… stood there… shallow breaths that refused to give her enough air as old memories attempted to assault her mind. “Safe…” She looked around the hovel and gave a slow nod. “Yes… um… I.. suspect we’ll be… moving soon…” She turned her gaze to Gamlen. “You’ll have your home back, Uncle… soon…” She returned her look to her Mother, her brows low in mild confusion for the fury that seemed to be… stalled. “I have to go.” She said rather quickly… a hand running down her coat as if she were searching for something. “I will… um let you know… when… yeah.” She just nodded again and made for the door, letting it shut slowly behind her. Leandra frowned deeply and exchanged questioning looks with Gamlen, she called after her eldest but received no answer… just the soft wisp of the latch in response.

Seeing Carver in that uniform had sent Kable into a whole different realm of pissed off. That had done it in his mind, Carver was no longer a part of _his_ family. That was _it._ The final straw. If Marian hadn’t held fast to him, he would have killed that bastard. He walked steadily beside her as they moved through the streets… he kept glancing up at her… worried over how slow she was to react. They were heading towards Hightown as the evening was descending upon the city. He was jumpy… each vehicle that sped past had him scoot closer to her leg as they moved. He was relieved when the Viscount’s keep came into view, he knew where they were going. Aveline… yes, if anyone could do something about this, it was her. The redheaded warrior. But… Kable was near panic when he realized what Marian had in mind.

“Are you sure?” Aveline questioned, blinking at Marian’s odd request.

Marian nodded, running a hand down Kable’s back. “Yeah, it’s just for the night. He won’t be a bother, I promise. I just… I have some things I need to do and I want him somewhere safe.” 

Kable whimpered loudly as he pawed at Marian’s leg, wishing desperately he could tell her _no, I belong with you._ Marian knelt down and took his head in her hands. “Easy boy…” She looked between his intelligent eyes. “It is just for the night.” She nodded with the words. “I need you to watch Aveline for me, I will be fine… I promise. You be good and mind her… please, Kable… just this once.” Kable whined but bowed his head slightly, he’d do this… for her. He didn’t like it and he didn’t understand… but he’d listen. Aveline questioned Marian again and Marian reassured her, again, that it was fine. Kable wanted to believe her… like Aveline did. But the day had jarred him on a number of levels… and the fact that she had yet to react to Carver’s chosen life… made him worry all the more. But he stayed with Aveline.

On the other side of Hightown, Varric cursed loudly as he threw a stack of files across Bartrand’s office, papers scattering all over the floor, he’d been there for hours, searching for _something_ , anything that might give him any idea of where his brother might have slunk off to. He felt like turning the desk over on its side… but he didn’t. He kicked the trash can across the room though. “Damn… nug humping… son of a bitch…” He ground out before sighing. “Sorry Mother.” He muttered. He had already put out a few feelers, no one had heard anything from Bartrand. The bastard had up and vanished like a fart in the wind. He’d already set up to have a few porters go to the Deep Roads site in the morning to go and meet the rest of the expedition and guide them out. Varric just stood there in his brother’s darkening office, fuming. His fists at his sides as he shook his head, the betrayal stung more than he thought it would. He just never thought… his own brother. His face twisted with anger before he turned away from the mess and left, slamming the office door behind him for good measure. He locked up and damn near jumped on Bianca, started her up and sped towards Lowtown, he needed a stiff drink… a lot of drinks as a matter of fact. In short, he ran from the problem… the feelings of anger, hurt, betrayal, all of it… as he always did. Liquor and his ability to stuff those damned emotions away was just what he needed, and the Hanged Man was right where he would find it. He parked his bike where he always did and trotted into the tavern, already feeling a sense of ease, even though the place was already packed. Hell, was it already that late? He shook his head at himself, sure enough, it was damn near ten at night. He weaved through the crowd and made his way around the corner, catching Norah before she went behind the bar. “Na, a bottle of whiskey.” He responded when she asked if he wanted his usual ale.

Norah smirked at him. “There’s already one at your table then.” She just handed him an empty glass and left him standing there with a quizzical look.

Varric blinked at her and then looked at the empty tumbler before opening his mouth to ask what the hell that was about but dammit, she had already walked off. He grumbled but went around to the other side, aiming for his booth. The place was barely lit and drumming with people and music, damn it was overly packed tonight. What the hell? He cursed in his mind when he remembered that it was not only a Saturday but it was also a festival weekend, the Grand Tourney was next week and Kirkwall was one of the stops on the trail so the whole city was buzzing… and he would have known that had he been paying any attention and of course, _not_ been finding his way out of the fucking Deep Roads. He had to push past more than one group of people before he reached his booth and sure enough, he saw a bottle of whiskey sitting on the table… half gone. He blinked at the boot that was sticking out over the seat, barely visible. Who the fuck was in his booth? He was already in a pissy mood, he was _not_ about to go easy on someone invading _his_ fucking booth. He was about to bark at whoever it was when he came up to the table and couldn’t have been more shocked if it had been the freaking Divine. “Mare?” He blinked a few times. She was lounging in the booth, her back against the wall, one knee up, the other leg stretched out, a tumbler of whiskey in her hand and an empty bottle on the table against the wall… her hooded gaze shifted up to him as her brows perked up just a bit.

“Hey… Varric!!” She blinked slowly but smiled at him, it was a drunk smile, but it was genuine. “I was going to see if you wanted a drink but…” She looked at the bottles. “I think I started without you.” Her words were slurred a bit but still easily understood. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a swallow, not even shuddering anymore.

Varric glanced down at the empty glass in his hand and back at her. “Just a bit.” He felt like smirking but… couldn’t. He was still in… shock? He didn’t even know… he just sat down opposite her and filled his glass, taking it all at once with a deep shudder and filling it back up before he found her eyes again, they had followed him. “So what is this about? You… you never drink.” He had to lean forward and speak up a bit for the noise that surrounded them.

Marian watched him join her and wasn’t sure how she felt about that, she wasn’t sure how she felt about anything, which was the point. She was deliriously numb but leaned towards happy at the same time. It was… nice. She blinked unevenly and took another swallow of her drink when he downed his. _Gonna take awhile for you to catch up!_ She thought playfully before he spoke. It took her a moment to riddle out what he said before she sat properly and mimicked his lean. “It’s a celebration, remember! We’re… rich, right?” She held her glass up to him. “You… well you’ve always had money but now I have money too… or will…”

Varric couldn’t help but smirk at her and settle his glass against hers. “Sure… yeah, right.” He nodded, the smile creeping up his face. “Except for that whole bit about my bastard brother betraying me…” He didn’t chase away the sarcasm or the anger from his voice but he kept his humor about him, dipping his head and lifting his glass slightly.

Marian dutifully nodded, doing the same as he with her glass. “Well, add that to the list of things we share.” She downed the rest of the whiskey in her glass and reached for the bottle only to have it move out of her hand. She blinked at it wide eyed for a moment before realizing that Varric was the one who moved it. “Oi…” She reached again only for him to pull it further, finally lifting it off the table and moving it behind him, settling it on the edge of the booth seat.

Varric was about to take a swallow of his whiskey when she spoke and he froze, watching her as she swallowed down her drink and reached for more. “What?” He pulled the bottle away from her. “Mare.. what are you talking about?” She was either ignoring him or not hearing him so he ended up balancing the bottle up on the seat’s back.

Marian narrowed her eyes at the bottle as if it was eluding her on purpose. She didn’t think twice before climbing up onto the table and reaching again. “Give.” When he changed hands and pulled it further away she groaned in frustration. “Hey! That’s mine ya know, I paid for it… sort of.” Her hand slid off the edge of the table and she barely caught herself… at least she thought she did. In reality it was Varric’s strong hand that came up under her arm and steadied her.

Varric tried not to laugh at her antics but failed… especially when she had to change directions. She almost knocked his glass over when she slipped but he caught her. “Tell me and I’ll give it back.” He countered, looking at her… damn she was lit, and who wouldn’t be? She drank… damn she’d drank a lot already.

Marian huffed and crawled the rest of the way, awkwardly folding herself this way and that, her boot getting caught on the table once or twice before she was sitting between him and the wall. “Fine.” She huffed before pulling her empty glass back over to her, toying with it on the table as he set the bottle back down. She sighed heavily, letting her head fall against the booth’s back ledge. “Carver’s a Templar now. Oh, sorry… Templar _recruit_.” She sneered the word, her hands held up with no amount of attitude spared. “He signed up while we were gone I guess.”

Varric chuckled at her having so much trouble, shaking his head at her. She was… actually quite adorable. But then she settled and he set the bottle down, dutifully waiting. Nothing could have prepared him for what she said… “What the fuck…” He breathed out. “Is it like fucking betray your family week or something? Did I miss the damn memo?” He filled her glass back up and finished his, filling it back up too, feeling the effects of the whiskey and welcoming it.

Marian nodded in agreement. “Guess so… they must have sent it to the wrong address.” She took a hefty swallow of her drink before setting it back down. “I just… I can’t believe it… after what they did to us…” She shook her head, her tone shining with all the disbelief that she felt. Her eyes fixed on the brown liquor in her glass. “How… how in the hell… could he sign up with the same bastards who took our father?” She shrugged and shook her head again. “I can’t even fit in my head…” She finished off her drink.

Varric focused on her features as she spoke, watching the subtle way her brows shifted around, how her eyes flicked back and forth as if she was searching the table for an answer. When she let slip the information about her father… something he was sure she wouldn’t have said if she had been sober, he felt it go through him. He slid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him just a bit. “Doesn’t make any sense.” He murmured into her ear after she finished with her drink, he refilled it. “Here, you so need this.” He gave a bit of a laugh, picking his glass back up and taking a swallow, hell, _he_ needed it.

Marian huffed a bit of a laugh and nodded, welcoming his quiet comfort. “Yeah, might as well enjoy it while I can.” She took another swallow and set it down on the table, running her finger along the rim. “I bet it won’t be long now.” She didn’t frown, she kept the smile, whether from the whiskey or the finality of it all.

Varric kept the glass near his mouth when she spoke, frowning slightly… he didn’t need her to elaborate, he knew well what she meant. He just shook his head and downed the rest of his drink. They spent the next hour or so getting rip roaring drunk and truth be told, laughing their asses off. They attempted a game of wicked grace once Isabella showed up but she quickly decided not to play with them since they were using anything _but_ coin to bet with, bottle caps and pebbles were the currency. But she did stick around and join their impromptu party. Varric was surprised at how well Marian held up… for someone who didn’t drink often, she held her liquor surprisingly well. Granted, she slowed down once he’d gotten there, but still. He’d caught up with her and then some, changing to ale shortly after he finished off a bottle on his own. It was just what the healer ordered… and the healer had ordered it, Anders was there and he freaking ordered it! Too soon the crowd started to thin… Anders and Isabella left together which had Marian and Varric snickering into each other’s shoulders like freaking teenagers. Varric slid out from the booth and swayed, pulling his coat back on dramatically. “Come on, we better go before they kick us out.” His words were slurred even to his own ears, he blinked slowly and swayed, stumbled a bit and gave a laugh at himself.

Marian nodded at him and did pretty much the same thing though she didn’t put her coat on, she kept it thrown over one shoulder. “Which they’ll do when Corff realizes I can’t pay for this stuff.” She gave Varric a wide eyed look before laughing loudly behind a hand.

Varric waved her off. “Bah, he knows we’re good at it.” He grabbed her hand and made way through the remaining crowd and snuck through the bar, even though he knew that Corff was just putting the stuff on his tab… for some reason he was feeling silly.

“For.” Marian corrected before feeling herself being pulled along, which was probably a good thing because she would have been all over the place. She giggle and mimicked Varric as they _snuck_ out… sneaky, sneaky witch thief! She couldn’t help but laugh as they busted out onto the street, even as she stumbled down the steps and nearly fell. “Success!” She spun around and took a step.

Varric wore a wide grin as he jumped down the stairs, bad idea… he almost bit it. He held his hands out to steady himself before giving a firm nod. “Was there any doubt.” He said with his eyes half closed before he took the few steps towards the side entrance to his loft, he glanced over his shoulder and laughed a bit. “This way, Mare! This way.”

Marian spun again and pointed at him. “Right! I knew that.” She gave his bike a wide girth and glared at it exaggeratingly. “I really… really… don’t like that thing… it’s… creepy and gives me the willies.” She sneered at it before following him the rest of the way.

Varric rolled his eyes at her. “You’re just jealous.” He said with a bit of a tone, he wasn’t even sure what tone that was. He fumbled with the keys but finally got it, aiming for the lift he glanced over his shoulder at her.

Now it was Marian’s turn to roll her eyes. “Oh yeah, jealous of a bike, sure.” She pffted at him as she stumbled down the narrow hallway towards the lift.

Varric opened the grates to the lift and stepped in with a smirk. “Yep, jealous because she’s the only one who gets close to all of this.” He ran his hand down his chest and to the front of his belt, tugging at his buckle with a bit of a laugh for his silliness, the drink making it so he didn’t even blush.

Marian followed and leaned against the metal wall of the dodgy elevator and gave a hearty laugh. “Yeah.. I wouldn’t say that too loud… if the only thing that will get close to… all of that… is a piece of machinery…” She held a hand out and raised a shoulder.

Varric ran his tongue between his lower teeth and bottom lip as his brow shot up and he gave a bit of a huff. “Oh she’s not the only one… even you were all up in this.” He made an overly exaggerated circle in front of himself with a high browed look.

Marian threw her head back with a hearty laugh. “And you couldn’t have been more freaked out!” She settled her hands on the slender railing behind her, her coat shifting off her shoulder a bit. “You even blushed, it was _so_ adorable.”

Varric narrowed his eyes at her as he lifted the lever on the lift before taking the few steps over to her, sticking his thumbs in his belt and kicking his chin up all cocky like. “I’m not blushing now.”

Marian raised a brow at him as he stood in front of her and the lift moved upwards, which of course was the slowest lift in the entire city for how derelict it was. “I haven’t touched you yet.” She smirked, rolling her lower lip in and wetting it, tasting the last of the whiskey there. She was… so far into the bottle it wasn’t even funny. And thus, she didn’t give a _damn_ at all. Which was bliss.

Varric raised a brow at her in return, swaying slightly for how inebriated he was. “Yet?” He settled one hand beside her head against the iron wall behind her, leaning and grateful for it because he was pretty sure he was going to stumble again if he had to stand on his own. He stepped towards her just a bit to do so, his hooded gaze only adding to the drunk look he was sporting.

Marian watched him carefully. “Whatever happened to Mr. I can control myself?” She could smell the whiskey, ale, and leather from his coat all blended in with just his personal fragrance, that’s how near he was. She let her coat fall to the floor as she reached and tucked her finger where his thumb had been, just inside his belt beside the buckle, not tugging but there.

Varric had rolled his own lip inward before looking down slowly at her hand, flicking his eyes back up to her without lifting his head. “Keep that up and the whiskey will say otherwise.” He felt that single finger between his belt and jeans like it was… damn, he didn’t even know. But he felt it far more intensely than he should have. Even in his inebriated state he knew… this was probably a good time to back the fuck away from her. But damned if he didn’t move. And damned if he didn’t let his gaze slide down her face, focusing on her parted lips and realizing seemingly for the first time how full they were… how soft they looked. Then to the column of her throat… and further down to the first few freed buttons on the front of her thermal and the deep slash of skin it revealed at this angle… the swell of her breasts just barely visible before the dark fabric covered them. He sent that slow gaze back up to her eyes and by the time he reached them again, the pace of his breathing had already picked up.

Marian felt the air around them change. His low spoken words said in combination with that look… and then the way he looked at her had her pulse quicken. She could almost feel his eyes on her and damned if all that whiskey wasn’t doing funny things to her. When his eyes came back to hers, she saw the beginnings of desire there, which did little to stave off her body’s interests. She glanced down at his chest and how it rose and fell a bit quicker than it had before. She shifted her hand, moving her middle finger beneath his shirt and tucked it between his jeans and his skin, watching his pupils start to dilate in response. “Well… you did want to witness those.. naughty things…” She gave his waistband and belt a bit of a tug.

Varric’s lips parted slightly at the feeling of her finger sliding into his waistband… he swallowed roughly as he kept his eyes on hers, watching them seem to grow more vibrant, the look unmistakable in its intent. His inner monolog was going a million miles a minute… anywhere from _don’t you fucking do it_ … _don’t even think about it…_ to _why shouldn’t I find a little comfort after this fucked up week, just for a little while?..._ and then she spoke. He was about to smirk but then she gave that.. tug. The slight pull… and that inner monolog locked up his brain, the whiskey soaked words drowned out everything else. “That I did.” He stepped into her, his hand sliding down the iron wall to settle against the side of her neck almost too lightly, his other hand leaving his belt and taking a gentle hold on her hip. He moved slow… as if he didn’t dare move any faster… his nerves skirted around the edges of his mind even for how drunk he was. He felt her hold on his waistband and belt tightening the closer he got and when he was too near for it to still be comfortable, her hand moved around to his hip though still stayed the same as it was… the feeling of her finger running along beneath his waistband had his skin breaking out in goose bumps.

Marian could almost see the war in his eyes… but then there he was, stepping into her and past her barriers, like he’d done seemingly since the moment he’d walked into her life. No.. _sauntered_ into her life. She felt his skin beneath the waistband of his jeans as they rode low on his hips… feeling his hand on her own hip and feather light against the side of her neck. She swallowed down her own nerves, she was drunk but this was _Varric_. The day had been fucked, the week had been as well… the memories from earlier pushed against her mind and that had her give a subtle shake of her head before she leaned forward the last few inches and captured his lips, her other hand slipping around to grip the back of his neck and pull him closer to her as did the hand on his hip, the hand that moved further around and slid up his shirt and settled on his lower back.

Varric saw the slight shake of her head, as if she were denying something, probably her better judgment because she kissed him in the next moment. His hands on her tightened their hold immediately, as did hers on him. In less than a single breath he was fully against her, his hand on her hip moved around and taking hold of her rear firmly, pulling her to him just as she did. His eyes closed to the intensity of it as he deepened the kiss and explored her mouth, damned if he didn’t growl behind it. In that single moment his mind seemed to split apart on him, his body tensed yet came alive for the first time, his groin tightened almost too fast, causing him to reach lower and pull her leg up and plant himself between her legs, jerking her against him. Damned if he wasn’t jacked up so fast… it actually caught him off guard. His brain was saturated with a single thought and it shocked him on a variety of levels. He had to break the kiss to gasp, pulling in a deep breath as he rolled his head to the side, her hand in his hair as she loosed it from its tie, freeing it to fall along her fingers. He turned and nipped at her fingers as he felt himself jerk between them, desperate and demanding. He gave her a searing look and welcomed the heat he saw in her eyes, in both ways. At some point, the lift had reached his loft but he didn’t care, even as the grates rattled open, which they would do if given the chance though they were extremely slow.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight Smut. Memory Smut.

Varric woke up the next morning slowly… a few blinks at a time as the world came into focus. He took a deep breath in through his nose and started to stretch only to be scared nearly out of his skin when he heard a sharp intake of breath on his left. He sat up quickly and blinked… quite a few times. _Oh… shit… Tethras… what the hell did you do last night…_ Varric looked out over Marian’s bare back and.. half of her bare rear, the covers laying not quite over her enough to do their freaking job. He glanced down and swallowed harshly against the dryness of his throat… lifted the covers off his lap and made a pained expression. Yep, he wasn’t wearing anything either. _Maybe they… just… got hot?_ Oh who the hell was he kidding. He ran a hand over his face roughly, peeking at her through his fingers with a look of… well, _almost_ dread. He let his hand fall as his expression changed to worry as he looked at her… letting his eyes flow over her. He saw her scars… he hated what they represented but… he gave a bit of a shrug to himself, they were… oddly beautiful on her. He noticed the dip of her hourglass and the flare of her hip when a flash of a memory assaulted his mind… he saw his hand holding fast to that hip as he drove himself into her while she screamed his name. He slammed his eyes shut quickly and shook his head, cursing under his breath. He lifted one of his knees and set his elbow on it so he could cradle his brow in his palm… his hazel eyes flicking back and forth as he tried to figure out how in the hell he was going to get out of this one. His eyes flicked to her and widened just a bit when she rolled over in her sleep, shifting around as she settled on her back, throwing an arm over her head and giving a puff of breath through her parted lips before falling silent again. His eyes were fixed on her breasts… because he was a guy, and they were… he took a steadying breath and felt like a sleaze, but before he could stop his mind, another memory came to him. He got a very clear picture of himself tasting those perfect mounds while she arched her back beautifully against him all while running her fingers through his hair. He gripped at his brow and slammed his eyes shut. _Knock it off, dammit!_ But before he knew it, the entire night came back to him in one big montage… everything… every touch… every kiss… from the moment they stumbled off the lift. He knew her coat was still in the lift and his was just outside of it.. both of their shirts were somewhere near the everything table, where he had set her atop and ravished her breasts and he knew her boots were probably under that table… he knew that he’d seriously thought about taking her right there for how eager he’d been and how welcoming she’d been… but he’d carried her to his bed, desperate for her. He’d thrown her on the bed as they both laughed, he knew his boots were around the bed somewhere as were their jeans… he remembered kissing a trail down her legs when he pulled hers from her. He remembered using his knife to cut her underwear from her, all while giving her a wicked grin… he remembered how jacked up he’d been the entire time, how he couldn’t wait to get inside of her. He wish he could blame it all on the drink… but he knew that there was more going on than the whiskey. He shook his head at himself as he remembered how many times he’d had her beneath him… and above him… and beside him… and in front of him. He made that pained expression again as he cursed himself repeatedly in his head. He glanced down as his groin tightened at the memories alone and he glared at it. _No, you’ve done enough damage._ His shoulders fell as he studied her features, but he found all the tension just… ease out of his shoulders. He’d never been so drunk in his life as to take anyone to his bed. He’d never… ever… been so damn reckless. He reached and brushed some of her hair off her brow and softened when she turned towards his touch, the fingers from her hand over her head reaching for him just slightly. His first instinct was to get up, shower, and act like nothing had happened. That’s what he would do… if it were anyone else. But when he thought about doing just that he was struck with such a profound feeling of… wrongness… he almost couldn’t breathe. Was this what that connection was all about? That feeling he’d had, the bond they shared? He sought that feeling out and found it stronger than ever, pulling him to her. Damned if it wasn’t near solid. He frowned deeply as he looked away. _You have to tell her…_ he rubbed at his eyes and nodded to himself. She deserved the truth. Both of them did… He rolled out of bed and stretched again, scratching at his abdomen before making his unsteady way to the bathroom, took care of a few things and climbed into the shower.

Marian came awake slow and in a way that said she didn’t really want to. But the distant touch and then the sound of water running pulled her from the depths of slumber. She opened her eyes and immediately slammed them shut against the light but she was quickly aware that she was nude… she pulled the covers up over herself and sat up slowly, blinking and looking around. It took her a moment to realize where she was… but she was still very confused over why she was naked. What the hell happened last night? She moved her tongue around her mouth to try and get rid of that sticky feeling when she ran a hand over her face, none too graceful either. She heard something fall in the tub and his rumbling curse over the spray of the shower and suddenly the night came back to her. “Oh… shit…” She hissed as she all but leapt out of the bed, well she was really fucking awake now. She looked around with a wide eyed look and located her underwear.. picking them up only to remember that he’d… “Son of a bitch…” She whispered low before throwing them back down and plucking her jeans from the floor and tip toeing around the half wall to the everything table, hyper aware of every sound in the loft. She gathered up her boots and thermal in her arms… keeping her eyes on the shower curtain rod that poked up over the half wall… _stay in there, stay in there, stay in there!_ She backed into the lift and was about to slam the lever down when she remembered just how loud it was. “Shhhit.” She pulled her coat off the floor only for her staff to fall, she winced and shot her eyes back up to the curtain rod… the water was still going and the curtain was still pulled around the tub. Her pulse was going crazy for how nervous she was. She already felt like absolute crap trying to sneak out… getting _caught_ trying to sneak out would just be… the most mortifying thing… ever. She quickly grabbed it up and tip toed back out of the lift and inched around the corner, sliding between his stored Orzammar relics and the wall she felt like she was sneaking around the Deep Roads or something. She made it to the damn-near-never-used door that led to the stairs, she turned the lock and grimaced as it popped loudly. She was on the edge of full blown panic as she opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through, she was gently closing it when she heard the water cut off. Her hands started to shake as she pulled the door shut all the way and darted down the first flight of stairs, stopping on the landing to throw on her jeans and thermal, clipping her staff back to her belt and leapt over the railing to the landing below, coat in one hand and boots in the other as she threw her shoulder into the door and nearly fell out onto the sidewalk. She looked behind her and then up before she bent down and slammed her feet into her boots, not even bothering to tie them properly, she just wrapped the laces around her ankles and knotted them, her hands were shaking too bad. She was still knotting one boot when she broke into a run down the street, fear chasing her, her coat whipping around in the death grip she had on it. She aimed straight for Hightown and the Keep to collect Kable… and very seriously thought about skipping town all together.

Varric climbed out of the shower just as he heard the door click shut. He tilted his head to the side, peering out from behind the curtain of his soaked hair. He blinked before snatching the towel off the hook and wrapping it around his waist, smoothing his hair back away from his face as he trotted over to the bank of windows. He watched her running down the street… his expression was blank for more than a moment before he looked over his shoulder at his bed. His eyes traveled over the area and he saw her ruined underwear… he felt a tremble go through his chest as he swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. His chin trembled for a fraction of a second before he scoffed at himself and turned around, dried off and got dressed. He picked up the scrap of black fabric and dropped it in the trash can on his way to the lift, he glanced up and saw that couch… still made up. He faltered as he looked at it… he didn’t know if she’d be back… or if he’d ever see her again, truth be told. And that scared the hell out of him. He took a deep breath and just pulled his coat on, stepped onto the lift, and slammed the lever down… probably harder than he needed to but he did it anyway. He spent the day in the Quarter arranging buyers for their Deep Roads loot. By the time he was done with all of his meetings he had found a buyer for each and every piece of ancient treasure they had found… but it would take over a month to get it all done, then he could start dividing it up between himself… and Marian. He sat at his desk and rolled a pencil around at the thought… it was well after dark before he left the Quarter and went to the Hanged Man. He had a few ales but his heart just wasn’t in it, so he just went home. He was about as nervous as a school boy in the lift… but he opened the grates to an empty loft. He felt the storm roll in his heart as he picked up her threadbare blanket and sat down on his Mother’s old couch, fisting the fabric in front of him as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He sat there for an hour, his brow set low, his eyes fixed on the floor as the night before flashed in his mind. _Had she been so ashamed that she couldn’t face him? Was she so disgusted that she had to leave without even talking to him? Did he mean so little to her… that she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him?_ These thoughts plagued him… memories of years past… when his family’s honor had been stained, his name dragged through the mud, and he was deemed unworthy to wed another followed close behind them and suddenly… it all welled up inside of him… and broke loose. One second he was sitting there and the next he was on his feet, pitching the blanket across the room before he rounded on the couch and upturned it before grabbing a chair from the everything table and slamming it over top of it, sending pieces of it flying as he made a strangled sound and continued to beat it over the table until there was hardly anything left, throwing the pieces across the room with a yell. He spun and ran his hands across the table, sending papers and shards of the chair scattering through the air and onto the floor as an angry tear ran down his face.

Marian felt panic digging its claws into her as she ran through the streets of Lowtown, flipping her coat around and pulling it on. Her mind spinning with flashes of the night, quickly being mixed with memories of the past. She stepped off the curb and darted across the street, spinning suddenly with the sound of a horn, having to leap out of the way of an oncoming delivery truck. She felt like the world was just… spinning out of control. She slowed to a nervous walk by the time she reached the Keep. She jerked open the door to the City Guard and glanced anxiously at the intake guard… opened the inner door when it buzzed and was beyond grateful that Aveline.. and Kable… were not ten feet away. She gave a bit of a wave as Kable all but ran over to her.

Kable heard the door open and caught her scent, turning quickly… overjoyed to see her until… he _saw_ her. He could feel her shame… her anxiety… and when he got nearer he froze and looked up at her with a confused look. The dwarf’s scent was all over her… in a way that was… _too_ much. He could practically hear her heartbeat pounding… he saw the fear just on the edges of her eyes when she looked down at him. He saw it there… she was ready to run. _No… what happened… I knew I shouldn’t have let you leave without me._

Aveline glanced up and saw Marian… she gave her a signal to wait just a moment as she finished up giving out the daily assignments but… Marian didn’t wait. She couldn’t run after her but damned if Marian didn’t even look back as Kable and her just slipped right out.

Marian just gave a short nod to Aveline… a sort of thanks for watching Kable. She hadn’t looked down at the mabari again, just took hold of his harness and felt the leather dig into her palm… grateful for the way it seemed to ground her. She still felt the tremble going through her veins… every fiber in her body telling her to _run_. Once outside she returned to that quick paced walk. She saw everything yet nothing at the same time… she had no idea how she made it back to Lowtown, she wasn’t paying any attention… even less when she rounded the corner into the alienage… why her feet led her to Merrill’s door, she had no idea. For some reason… she just… thought… she didn’t even know. She knocked soundly on the elf’s door before wringing her shaking hands, trying to still herself… and finding that it wasn’t even close to working. Kable was leaning against her thigh, looking up at her, whimpering softly. She glanced down and shook her head at him when the door opened slowly.

Merrill sniffled as she peeked out. The knock had terrified her… she was expecting Templars. When she saw Marian she all but disappeared into a puddle, covering her face as she felt… like a stupid girl. “…. Hawke…”

Marian frowned deeply at her… she hadn’t even thought about how Carver’s enlistment would have effected Merrill. She swallowed against the tightness in her throat as she stepped in, taking hold of the woman’s slender shoulders and giving her a quick hug, the most she could give her in her own current state. “Come on… get your stuff.” Had she decided to take this elf with her? Apparently she had… Kable looked up at her with a worried look. _She’s running…_ he cursed in his mind as he sat just inside the door as Merrill shut it slowly.

Merrill welcomed the hug… even if it was brief. She had never seen Marian even touch anyone else in kindness, even the dwarf was the one who touched _her_ , she never touched him… so it meant a lot. She closed the door slowly, somewhat shocked by her words. “What… why? Is… are they coming?”

Marian looked around, feeling the edges of her vision blur as adrenaline pumped through her. “It won’t be long now… neither of us is safe anymore.” She spotted a worn looking messenger bag and nearly leapt for it, picking it up and walking into Merrill’s small bedroom and jerking the top open on her trunk.

Merrill took a sharp breath as she followed the woman. “Neither of us? But… surely he wouldn’t turn in his own sister!” It was like she didn’t know Carver at all… and that hurt the most. She thought he had been… so sweet. Gentle even. She watched as Marian began stuffing her messenger bag with clothes.

Marian shook her head with a bit of a scoff. “Wouldn’t put it past him.” She crammed as much as she could before she straightened and looked at Merrill with a bit of a frown. “Merrill… look… you aren’t used to this… but I am… I can’t…” She felt her heart pound in her chest as those memories started assaulting her again, feelings welling up inside of her. “I have to get out of here. And you should too… at least for a few days.” She offered her the bag. “Just in case.”

Merrill took the bag slowly but was looking at Marian carefully. She looked… damn she looked spooked… shaken… terrified… and as if she was dangerously close to some kind of nervous breakdown. She had a sinking suspicion that this was about more than just Carver. “Hawke… what’s wrong?”

Marian ran a shaking hand down her face as she felt like she couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. “I have to go… I can’t… I can’t be here… anymore.” She gripped at the thermal over her chest and felt the panic starting to climb up into her, threatening to take over. “I… I…” She looked back at Merrill… tears threatening to settle on her lower lashes, she felt a tremor go through her as she shook her head and quickly left the elf’s small bedroom and aimed for the door, Kable instantly on his feet and whining as he circled around her.

Merrill’s eyes widened as she saw Marian… seem to be on the verge of some kind of.. panic attack… her voice shook when she spoke and she just… started to leave. Merrill snatched her wool coat off the chair as she passed by it and followed her, she wasn’t going to let her go anywhere alone in the state she was in. Merrill gladly ignored her own sorrow, she didn’t even bother to lock her door.

            Once they were outside, Merrill threw her bag over her shoulder and found herself quickly jogging to keep up. Marian led the way… aiming for the tracks. Merrill didn’t know why but she felt… better, just a bit. She started to run… coming up beside Hawke and glancing over to her… she saw the woman’s features had started to relax a bit. “I’m with you, Hawke. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

            Marian glanced over at her and nodded… she aimed for the tram as it started to speed through the city… she ran alongside it, her strong legs pounding into the stone as she had her eye fixed on a handle… Kable ran ahead and leapt up, landing inside one of the empty cars without a thought, looking back at them. Marian reached and took hold of the handle and hoisted herself up… turning around immediately and holding her hand down for Merrill… the elf taking it a second later and just like that… they were on the tram. Both of them staring out as the city flashed by… Marian felt the panic in her starting to ease… she kept her eye on the city as they left it… then she glanced down at Merrill and gave her an almost relieved smile. The elf returning it before they both just laughed… relief filling the car. Kable watched on but he knew… Marian was just running again… he didn’t know from what… but he hadn’t seen her try to run like that since… since Malcolm. Whatever had happened… had either hurt her badly… or touched her too much.

            By the time Varric was having his outburst… Marian was laying beside a fire… looking up at the stars. Merrill doing the same on the other side. Marian felt a pull in the center of her chest and frowned deeply… she still felt that need to run. But she knew… that she couldn’t run far enough, not from this. When she woke up that morning and realized what had happened… remembered it… all the feelings had come right along with it. She hadn’t been ashamed… not really. What had her running… was… that she wanted to _stay_. Stay right where she was… right there in that bed… in that loft… with him. And that… that simply would not do. Her whole life had been about running, never staying in one place for too long… because the Templars would always find them. Mages were never truly free. She had never dared to care too much about anyone outside her family… she never dared to… fall in love. And she knew… given the briefest of chances… it would be far too easy to fall for him.. if she hadn’t already. She didn’t dissect her feelings on that… she didn’t want to know. It was impossible. She had decided long ago that she could never condemn anyone to the life that her Mother lived… always running.. always hiding… never being able to just… be safe. To sleep soundly… to truly settle down and just… live. To be free. She couldn’t do that to anyone… and she wouldn’t do that to him. She didn’t know what he wanted from her now… if he wanted… what she couldn’t give… she would have to hurt him. If he didn’t want anything from her… even the thought stung. _You are so fucked up_. She thought bitterly. The thing that hurt the most… the one thing that was busy tearing her up on the inside… was the loss of him. He was… her one friend. The one person she had come to count on… to rely on… to lean on. Which just made her feel foolish… and angry with herself. It was that closeness… that comfort… that had gotten her into this mess. Now here she was… half way between Kirkwall and Ostwick… laying on the beach with an elven blood mage with a broken heart… with nothing but the clothes on her back… the staff on her belt… the dagger in her boot… the picture and scrap piece of paper in her back pocket… and Kable… and that was it.

            Merrill was surprised at how much better she felt. Being out here… away from the city… it started to sooth her heart. She didn’t know why Hawke was out here… and she wasn’t going to ask again. But she knew that whatever it was had messed with her greatly. She glanced over to Kable and couldn’t help but smile to herself… he was sitting there just feet from Hawke’s head, like one of the statues of Fen’Harel, to ward off evil. Like he dared anything or anyone to come and try to hurt his person.


	18. Chapter 18

Two days later, Varric climbed on his bike and made his way over to Gamlen’s apartment. He knocked on the door lightly, shifting his weight nervously. He had checked in with Aveline and Isabella… the only two people he thought she might bunk down with. Aveline hadn’t seen her since that day and Isabella hadn’t seen her since they got back. So she must have gone back to Gamlen’s. He looked up when the door opened and Leandra stared back at him. “Oh.. Good morning Serah… um… Is Marian here?”

            Leandra looked at the dwarf. She shook her head at him, slightly confused. “No…” She wrapped her sweater around her more tightly, folding her arms in front of her. “I haven’t seen her since she got back…” She watched as he looked… disappointed? “Is… is something wrong?”

            Varric cursed in his mind. Realizing suddenly that… he had no idea where to look next. He looked around for a moment before her question drew his attention again. “Oh… no… not really. It’s just… well… she was kind of upset and… I’ve checked with Aveline and…” His words faded out as he watched her expression go almost pained, her eyes closing as she let out a breath. That… didn’t… make him feel any better.

            Leandra felt the dread sink into her at his words. _Oh… Marian_ …. She looked back at him and held the door open. “You better come on in.” She stepped back as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. She walked around him and over to the small table and sat down with a sigh, gesturing to the other chair. “There’s something you should know about my daughter, Sir Dwarf.”

            Varric felt… awkward. He’d never talked with Leandra before… not really. He did as she said and sat down, but on the edge of the chair. He looked at her carefully at the words she said… he didn’t say anything in return, just folded his hands together, letting them settle in his lap.

            Leandra frowned slightly as she crossed her legs like the lady she had been brought up to be. “Marian is…” She gave a bit of a smile as she thought about her eldest. “One of the strongest people I have ever known. She gets that strength from her father, it surely didn’t come from me. But… her life hasn’t been easy. And with those struggles come… certain… habits.” She gestured slightly with her hand, that smile fading as worry crept into her blue eyes. “Whenever she is faced with something that makes her feel… _too much_ … she…” She sighed quietly as she looked up and around, searching for the words. Finally she looked at him with an almost resigned expression. “My daughter is a runner, Master Tethras. If she _feels_ too much… good or bad… she’ll run. Carver’s enlistment…” She shook her head with a frown. “Templars haven’t been kind to our family… and Marian fears them above all others. I’m sure she would not want you to know… but you seem to be a true friend of hers…” She felt the pain that came with her words. “Marian’s father… he wasn’t always an apostate… he was once a member of the circle, right here in Kirkwall… so they had the ability to track him. For years we managed to stay a step ahead of them but… well…” She picked at a stray strand from her sweater.

            Varric felt those words course right through him… _my daughter is a runner._ He swallowed down the sudden tightness in his throat, fighting the urge to jump up and run out the door to start scouring the city. But he sat there… and listened, feeling as though he was being given a forbidden look into Marian’s life. “They found him.”

            Leandra nodded slowly. “Yes. They found… both of them. I don’t know exactly what happened, I only know that my daughter returned viciously wounded… and my husband did not return at all. Ever since then… whenever anything gets too… _real_ …” She wiped at her eyes before pinning him with a serious look. “She’ll panic… and then she will run. The closer the feeling is to her heart… the further she’ll try to run. She put this wall up around her that day… and she hasn’t let anyone in since. If no one’s heard from her in… what… three days now? Then…” She shook her head and felt her lower lip shake just a bit but pinned him with a look of warning, her tone matching that look. “She’s got a three day head start.”

            Varric took a deep breath and nodded, standing up too fast.. the chair protesting as it skidded across the concrete. “I… I have to go. Thank you, Serah.” He took the few quick steps to the door and threw it open, a moment later he was taking the stairs two at a time… adrenaline starting to pump through his veins. _She’s got a three day head start…_ fuck me! He should have come to call on her sooner! He cursed himself as he climbed on his bike and slammed the ignition down, peeling out when he turned the bike around and roared down the street, not even seeing Leandra standing on the balcony. For two days he searched the city… he checked with everyone he could think of. He checked with Fenris, Anders, even Sebastian… he checked with Athenriel, Tomwise, Worthy… he checked around the docks and warehouses. No one had heard or seen from her. He was growing more desperate… and panicked.

He was sitting on his bike in Hightown after leaving the Rose, having asked around in there if anyone had seen her. She didn’t frequent the establishment, but a lot of people did. It was nearly dawn on the sixth day of Marian’s absence… he looked up and sent a silent prayer on up. _I could use some help… right now. Please…_ _I can’t have lost her._ He didn’t want to think about the whys of the matter. He just knew that his chest hurt… and his mind was all twisted up, mixed up, and on some kind of loop… memories of her racing around his head. Suddenly he realized that he hadn’t checked Merrill’s… he raced over to the alienage and didn’t even care about the time as he pounded on the elf’s door. He blinked when the latch gave way and it just clicked open, the door swinging in slowly. “Daisy?” He found her hovel… empty. He walked in and went through the small place and blinked as he found her bedroom… her trunk open and her clothes gone. _Merrill is gone too?_ He blinked a few more times in confusion. He walked back outside, shutting and actually locking her house for her. He looked to the left and saw an elven merchant setting up shop. “Hey… do you know where this lady went?” He pointed to the house.

The elf jumped at being addressed so early in the morning. She looked at the dwarf and raised her brows. “Um… no… I saw… I saw her leave with a dark haired woman and a dog about… six days ago?”

Varric felt his heart skip a beat as he walked closer to her, his brows raised. “Did you see where they went?” He knew he about barked at her but he couldn’t help it.

The woman damn near jumped again, looking at him oddly as she pointed with a shaking finger towards the tracks. “They… they ran like the dread wolf had caught their scent… and took the tram.”

Varric looked sharply over to the tracks that were just on the other side of the channel and took a breath, nodding to her and then jumping back on his bike and tearing out of the alienage. It took no time before he was on the narrow road that ran alongside the tracks… the tram only went in one direction, so he knew which way they had to have gone. He pulled off at Sundermount and checked with the Dalish clan… they hadn’t seen anyone… he moved on. He kept praying that she hadn’t gone all the way to Ostwick… from there she could be literally anywhere. He rode until nightfall. He had to break for the night… he couldn’t see any signs in the dark. He laid there just off the road… on the hard ground as he stared up at the stars. His insides trembling on him. “Dammit Mare… where are you…”

            They spent a week in the wilds on the coast… Merrill felt the sand and the surf breathing life back into her. Hawke started teaching her how to focus her magic more securely… and Merrill was amazed as she watched Hawke bring forth fire so skillfully… and so directly. She made the flames dance around her in beautiful arcs… sending them up into the sky with such… focus… and control… it was… awe inspiring. Merrill had fashioned some of the clothes that Hawke had stuffed in her bag to fit the woman, it was not hard to see her for the warrior spirit she truly was. But part of her grew sad watching her in the evenings as she waded into the waves… looking across the ocean… Merrill could feel her sadness… her longing. She also saw it in her eyes whenever she looked back towards the direction of Kirkwall… Hawke was missing someone… and Merrill doubted it was her family… not that look. It was… different. But there were other times… when Hawke surprised her… she’d chase Kable through the tidal pools, and then the hound would aim for _her_ … and Merrill would yelp and run… only to find herself ensnared into the game. It was a week of… healing.

            Marian fought the pull to keep running the entire time… she tried to ease her storm. But she couldn’t shake the feelings nor the thoughts that ran around her mind and heart the entire time. She did feel the sea start to sooth her soul… but her heart seemed to be breaking the longer she was there. She felt the pull of Kirkwall… the pull of _him_. As if there was a tether between them… stretching thinner the longer she was away. She prayed to Andraste… begging for her to take these thoughts from her… to take these feelings away… to stop tempting her with something she could never have. She grew angry with herself all over again and then just felt defeated… it was a state of ups and downs and she hated it. She tried to keep her mind busy by teaching Merrill… at least the elf was a quick study. She tried to find her happiness… trying to tell herself to only count on Kable, like she had before. To convince herself that the mabari was the only real friend she needed. But when the sun started to go down… casting the sea into beautiful hues of orange and red… she felt the world start to go quiet… and she couldn’t stop her heart from yearning… she couldn’t stop herself from wanting… _knock it off, idiot. It can never happen… it’s better this way…_

            Varric rode on… his eyes fixed on the brush on the other side of the path for any flattened spots… signs that someone had jumped off, standing up on the pegs just like the day before. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a clearly downed bush. He sped up to it and pulled off the path… tucked his bike into the brush and covered it up with the downed bush… hiding it. He broke through the thicket and knelt down, looking at the loamy soil… releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he saw a clear dog print… and a bare foot print… he stood up but stayed stooped over… he felt his heart skip a beat as he saw a boot print. They had been here. He stood up and looked out over the coast lands… the sea was still a good league or two away. He took a deep breath and started following the trail, one of his revolvers pulled and at the ready… just in case. The wilds could be a dangerous place.

            Merrill smiled at Marian as she stood there, her bag on her shoulder. “Are you sure you won’t come back with me?”

            Marian shook her head. “Not yet…” The sea breeze whipped her long hair around her, the wrapped skirt doing the same. Merrill’s threadbare sweater was like a second skin but luckily one of the elf’s ‘too big’ tanks fit Marian comfortably and she wore that under it. “Be careful heading back.” She offered the elf a small smile of her own, if only to make her feel better about leaving her.

            Merrill nodded to her. “Alright.” She waved at her as she started walking away… using her staff like a walking stick. “I will.” She felt much better… this time was just what she needed. She felt much better… she wasn’t _all_ better… but… it helped. She walked down the beach a ways, taking a different path than the one they had taken to get there, disappearing into the brush. She knew that Marian would be safe… she was a powerful mage… and she had Kable with her.

            Marian watched her seemingly vanish, confident that she’d be fine. She _was_ a Dalish elf after all… if nothing else, she knew how to move unseen. She looked over to Kable who was lounging under the lean-to made of wide leaves and limbs. Nothing more than a shield from unfriendly eyes coming from the tracks. She saw him lift his head and look over his shoulder but he laid back down so she thought nothing of it. She looked out over the sea as the sun started to go down again. _You can’t stay out here forever…_ she said to herself. Sighing heavily she walked towards the waves… letting them coming in and wash over her feet… holding her skirt up and out of the way. Closing her eyes as she welcomed the cool breeze. She felt… stuck. Every time she thought about going back… she felt like running. Every time she thought about running further… she felt like going back. Her feet wouldn’t move either way… her mind screamed at her to keep going. Her heart demanded she return… pulling her back to him. Which only made her want to run… and the cycle repeated itself.

            Varric broke through the brush line, his eyes fixed to the ground as he saw the soil turn to sand… and the trail disappeared. He started to panic a bit… looking up and then… he went still. There she was. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs seemingly for the first time since he realized she was gone. He holstered his revolver and walked out onto the sand… he heard the softest of huffs to his left and he glanced over, seeing Kable lounging on a bed of ferns. He smirked at him and walked over, kneeling down and giving him a scratch behind his ears before he took off his coat and laid it down next to him.. he set his revolvers on top of it, knowing they’d be more than safe there. He stood up and looked back to her… he adjusted his shoulder holsters over his long sleeved gray thermal as he started making his way over to her. He felt like the world just faded away. He watched as the waves rolled in and ran up to her shins as the wind whipped around her. He felt his heart pound out a rhythm that he’d only felt one other time… the night they’d shared together. His mind started trying to kick him with his own jacked up complex… her Mother’s words echoing through the thoughts… _the closer the feeling is to her heart… the further she’ll try to run…_ and damned if she hadn’t try to get to the other side of the continent _._ He swallowed roughly as his breath came out of him shaky. His whole body just seemed to shudder… his mind kept at him though. Each step he took felt like he was being pulled in two different directions. One way led back to what he was used to… back to the one he should have let go of a long time ago to be honest… the other pulled him towards Marian. That connection he felt tugged him to her. She was more… real. And it wasn’t because she was here. He’d never felt so drawn to anyone before… and he didn’t know how to handle it. He stopped just at the edge of the damp sand before speaking. “Mare…”

            Marian jumped and turned around, almost too quickly… her lips parted with her shock… and a thousand things went through her mind. Her skirt slipped out of her fingers and she just stood there… staring at him… as if she had strayed into a dream. She didn’t know if this was a nightmare… or a fantasy. Or if he was really there… she felt the panic dump into her… urging her to run. To flee from the feelings that he stirred in her… her insides seemed to shake yet go still at the same time… she wanted to run but wanted to stay… she wanted to smile but wanted to frown… wanted to cry… wanted to laugh… stay silent… yet scream… all at the same time. This constant conflict showed in her golden eyes as an tear escaped and trailed down her cheek. “Why are you here….” She knew her voice shook when she spoke but she couldn’t chase it out of her tone.

            Varric saw the war in her eyes and felt it in his bones. He kept flexing the muscles around his mouth, trying to still his expression. Between his brow… and his eyes… it was impossible. His brain just wouldn’t stop… his heart wouldn’t either. He saw his conflict in the way she stood there… the rigid way she held her shoulders… the way her dark brows were set steady over her eyes. Those eyes… they went through him every damn time. He opened his mouth to answer her but… couldn’t find the words. What could he say? That he was here because he was terrified that he’d lost her? That he had no right to feel that way? That she was never his to begin with? That he just wanted to make sure she was safe? That… he was worried about her? What the fuck _could_ he say…

            Marian felt anger start to win out as he stared back at her. She just… couldn’t stand any of it anymore. The muscles in her jaw started working before she took a step towards him, throwing a hand out. “ _Why are you here!_ ” She didn’t yell it… but she stressed the words. She wanted to know why he was there… why did he have to be there. Why did he… ever… have to find her. She’d managed to protect herself from everyone… except him.

            Varric looked at her intently… _say something!_ His brows pitched outward slightly and then down as his eyes flicked between hers. He’d found the words but he didn’t dare say them… he felt his muscles start to tremble and twitch, he felt his thermal seem to grow too tight for how he started to fill it out. He reached for her but pulled his hand back, his nostrils flaring with the breath he took as he shook his head slowly, as if he could speak to her without saying a word.

            Marian’s anger was quickly gaining ground in her mind, spinning faster as she watched him. Everything… just… _everything_ pressed in on her, tripping her rebellious streak to fight back against all of it. She took another step and shoved him, another damned tear slipping down her face. “Why the fuck are you here, Varric!”

            Varric swayed back only one step but rebounded quickly, stepping towards her with a sharp intake of breath… pinching his lips together, forcing himself to keep quiet. _Don’t you say a fucking word, Tethras._

            Marian wanted to scream, just throw her head back and let the agony out. But she just held her hands out wide, feeling the waves rolling into the backs of her ankles and splashing up her calves, soaking the bottom of her skirt... giving him almost a pleading look, as if he could do anything at all to stop the storm that raged inside. She put her hands to his cheeks… stepping into him and looking between each of his eyes. “Why are you here…” Her voice barely above a whisper… but damned if it didn’t hold all that struggle in it.

            Varric’s breaths were sawing in and out of him as he felt the waves come around her and spill over his boots… the tide coming in and quickly passing them. The look she gave him went right to his heart… her hands on his face had his eyes feel the sting. His storm no less violent than hers. The last rays of the day’s sun catching the gold flakes set against her irises.. seeming to light her eyes up. His hands went into fists at his sides to keep from touching her... his expression was almost angry… he opened his mouth to tell her that.. he was just checking on her… because he was her friend… the lie already tasting like vinegar in his mouth. But when his voice came… it just… spilled out. “Because I love you…” His voice was so low… gravel filled and thick with emotion. Not… I’m in love with you… but simply put… he already loved her, not falling for her… already fell… and damn had he fallen hard. Those words seemed to split his chest wide open… and he saw the fear dump into her eyes. His arms went around her in that next second… just as she started to back away.

            Marian’s lips parted as her hands started to slide off his face… _no… Maker… no…_ that fear ran through her veins faster than anything else and that urge to run slammed into her… but his arms came around her so fast. She felt them cage her in… she felt like she couldn’t breath as she shook her head at him. “No…” She wasn’t aware she had said it out loud until she saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes. “Don’t love me… Varric… you don’t want to love me.”

            Varric pulled her closer to him… her words adding fuel to the storm in his chest. “No… I don’t want to… but I do.” He swallowed harshly. “I know you’re scared…” He splayed a hand on her back and reached up with the other, brushing some of her windblown hair back from her face. “But please… don’t run from me again.”

            Marian felt herself start to tremble in his arms… a rebellious tear spilling over as she felt his hand on her back, keeping her there. “I can’t…” She settled her hands on his chest, feeling his heart pound. “I can’t give you… anything… I won’t do that to you.”

            Varric pulled her even closer when he felt her tremble. He knew she wasn’t cold… she was never cold. He looked confused at her words. “Do what to me?”

            Marian felt another tear roll down her face. “I won’t do to you what my Father did to my Mother… and I won’t make you do to me… what I had to do to him… I can’t love you…”

            Varric’s features stilled when he heard her words. He wiped her tears away and took a rough breath… he understood what she was talking about… the bit about her father had him close his eyes with a pained expression… it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He’d learned much from Anders over the past year… Templars did one of two things to adult mages… they either killed them outright… or made them Tranquil. And her words made it very clear which had happened to her father. But then she said… _I can’t love you_. He looked at her intently. “You.. can’t… love me?”

            Marian gave him another pleading look. “Varric… please…”

            Varric shook his head at her. “I should have a say in this life you won’t allow me to have.”

            Marian blinked at him… his hazel eyes softening to her only had her heart warming to him. Damn this dwarf. She reached an unsteady hand for his cheek… settling it there and watching how he leaned into it and took a deep breath, covering it with his own. “I’m scared to… if something were to ever happen to you…” She felt the breath leave her with just the thought… she took a shallow breath, tears instantly springing to her eyes causing her to blink rapidly. “It would be the end of me.” She whispered the last.

            Varric turned and kissed her palm, keeping his eyes on hers. “That’s not going to happen.” He leaned in and kissed her lips… softly at first and then she deepened it and damned if he didn’t _feel_ her love. He wrapped his arms around her more firmly, lifting her up out of the surf as he arched his back just enough to do so, feeling her arms around his neck, her hair falling around his face. The storm inside him instantly stilled, his heart soared and his mind focused on only her. He ran a hand up and cradled the back of her neck, his fingers sliding up into her hair. When she broke the kiss he was breathless, stepping backwards out of the tide, taking her with him. He kissed her again, just enough to taste her lips before pulling back. “Tell me…” He needed to hear it…

            Marian knew he couldn’t promise things like that… but she wanted to believe him. Then he kissed her… and she sought a deeper connection. Her heart flaring as she wrapped her arms around him, breathing in deeply through her nose, her eyes closing as she went weightless… that urge to run disappeared just like that. And that was it, wasn’t it? All of that back and forth struggle just… stopped. She could think of nothing else… she could feel nothing else. When he pulled back, she heard his words and saw the need in his eyes… his own fear… she spoke the words so quietly, lest they be scared off if spoken too loudly. “I love you.”


	19. Chapter 19

Varric felt the last tumblers of that cosmic lock that had connected them since the beginning fall into place. The bond between them solidified and the acceptance he saw in her eyes… damned if that didn’t make his chin tremble. He just pulled her into a fierce embrace, burying his face in her nape, shaking around her as he settled her back on her own feet. Somewhere in his mind he thought _So this is what it feels like to really be loved…_ he felt her body warm in his arms as she held him just as tightly. It almost brought him to his knees… he gave a bit of a laugh as he felt it. “Is that…” He could swear he actually felt her love… truly felt it.

            Marian turned her face into his neck, smiling bashfully and nodding slightly… her body warming even more. It was a tender warmth.. her love seeping out of her and into him. She couldn’t help it… saying those words shook loose the last bits of defense she had around her heart. The final stones of her walls tumbling down and letting him in all the way. Which wasn’t without its own set of fears… but she didn’t focus on those at the moment. She ran her hand up into his hair and just held onto him as the light of the day disappeared and the night began. She didn’t have to look to know that her skin was gently glowing, not unlike starlight… it was just energy… pure white energy, her power. When he pulled away and looked at her, the glow only grew more vibrantly for him.

            Varric looked down at her and was breathless… he ran his hand down her cheek, the glow responding as if it were touch sensitive. He saw the shine in her pupils and was just… taken. “So beautiful…” He breathed. She was… everything. He’d never seen anything more… amazing. It was one thing to hear the words… but to not only feel it… but to see it. There could be no doubt… he captured her lips again, a slow… unrushed kiss.

            They stood there locked in their embrace for the longest time before he finally pulled away… she pulled on his lower lip… and he gave her a look that held a hell of a lot of promise in it. But he took her hand… and when he stepped away from her he watched as the glow dimmed and her display dissipated, but he didn’t mind at all. He walked with her back over to her impromptu camp, where Kable was sitting… patiently waiting. He sat down on one of the logs that she had apparently gathered. “Now… we need to talk about a few things.” He said matter of factly as he watched her.

            Marian cleared her throat nervously as she started the fire in the now well used hole, glancing at him with a worried look but she dutifully nodded… sitting across from him on the other log. “We do.” She tucked some of her hair behind an ear and watched him carefully. She knew it would take some time before she grew comfortable… and stopped feeling like she had to be on high alert.

            He took a steadying breath before he popped his knuckles. “Now… alright…” He gave her a nervous look. “I… have… a… well.. I’m not really sure what to call her.” He ran a hand down his face. “Let me back up.” He stared at the fire. “Long story short… when I was young… I met a girl… we… got together… our families didn’t approve… her family arranged a marriage for her… and she married the guy… and… I’ve been… the _other_ guy for… damn… six years now. We write letters… and I’ve seen her… once… since she’s been married… that was four years ago.” He chanced a look at her… “Her name’s Bianca.”

            Marian watched him across the fire as he told her about his… whatever he wanted to call it. When he looked up at her… she saw the fear and shame in his eyes. She wanted to tell him that it was fine… that… she didn’t mind… but… then he said the name and she couldn’t help herself. She pointed at him suddenly. “Ah ha! I _knew_ I didn’t like that damn bike for a reason!”

            Varric had expected her to be angry… to yell at him… to throw all kinds of accusations at him… since… that’s what Bianca would have done. But then… she just… he blinked at her… and damned if he didn’t fall for her all over again. He barked out a laugh and shook his head at her. “I’m keeping the bike though.”

            Marian smirked at him but sobered. “What… are you going to tell her?”

            Varric let out a deep breath as he raised his brows. “I have no idea…” He flicked his eyes up to her. “I want to tell her the truth… but… I don’t trust her not to come here and start some shit… and… if she finds out you’re a mage… I don’t trust her to not turn you in.”

            Marian frowned slightly at him. She didn’t expect him to turn his entire life upside down. Not for her. “Varric… I can’t sit here and pretend that I don’t think this Bianca woman is the stupidest person in the world for marrying someone else over you.. but… she’s been a part of your life for a long time. I have no right to have an opinion on how you handle your relationship with her… I just ask that… if you keep writing her…” She gave him an apologetic look of her own. “Lie your ass off in those letters.”

            Varric stared at her… damn, was there no end to her? She just… yeah… he had it bad. He smirked at the last though, he gave her a nod. “I promise… as a matter of fact… I think I will do that.” He saw her raise a brow. He got up and rounded the fire… kneeling down in front of her and then he continued. “I mean it… I think… I just figured out how we can do this.” He leaned in a bit more, all conspiracy like. “None of our associates would ever suspect that we’d be together… I’m a damn good liar… I spin stories for a living, you know that. I can make it so everyone thinks we’re just friends, good friends… but only friends. I keep writing Bianca… so she thinks you and I are just friends. No one will know… you’re safe… and I’m safe… and when the time is right…” He took her hands in his, feeling that dumbstruck hope flaring in his chest. “I’ll take you away from it all.. we’ll just… disappear.” He laced his fingers with hers and felt that same old stupid worry start to sink its claws into him. “And I’ll have you all to myself.” Would she agree? Or was it asking too much. He couldn’t believe he was putting himself out there… _again_.

            Marian watched him carefully when he came over and knelt before her, feeling the rough calluses on his palm when he took her hands. She listened to not only his words but the tone of his voice, excited yet… sure. Then… hopeful… and yet… fearful. She saw the moment his insecurities started to undercut him, it flickered there in his eyes. She thought about what he was saying… could they do this? Could they really keep their relationship secret from the world? It was a gamble… and the stakes were their lives. She flexed her fingers between his and creased her brow with worry. “We’ll have to be so careful…” She felt a million worries bombard her. “Your loft is the only place that can be safe… outside of there... you can’t…” She shook her head at him, glancing down at their hands. “You can’t touch me…” She looked back into those eyes of his. “Or look at me any differently… you can’t act _any_ different at all.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Nor can I.”

            Varric saw the worry in her eyes and on her face. But her words had his heart slam in his chest. He had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I accept your terms… what of mine?”

            Marian couldn’t help but look up and sigh… giving him a small smile. “Agreed.” No sooner had the word left her did he reach for her, his hand on the back of her neck and his lips on hers, quick but meaningful.

            Varric had to kiss her… that dumbstruck hope flared brightly in him, when he pulled away his smile was wide, he almost couldn’t contain his exhilaration. It had all the elements… forbidden love… secrets… and a plan. “It’s settled then.”

            Marian settled her brow against his, combing her fingers through his hair while her other fingers went down his cheek, the back of her knuckles caressing his stubble gently. Her smile fading just slightly as she visibly softened her eyes at him for the tenderness she felt. “I’m so sorry…”

            Varric settled his hand on her side, feeling himself go… quiet… for the way she was looking at him, the feeling of her hands on him. He gave her a confused look at her words. “For what?”

            Marian brushed her nose against his, running her fingers down his neck and toying with his Adam’s apple. “For taking so long to find you.”

            Varric felt his eyes sting for the emotion those words invoked in him. He swallowed against her fingers, his voice coming out thick with feeling. “You’re here now…” He realized that… she’d always been there. Somewhere in his heart he’d always felt it… something, somewhere… a pull that he never understood. Not a hole in his heart, but a tug… pulling him towards… something. When he first saw her leaving Bartrand’s office, that single moment when she looked at him… that part of him jumped towards her. “And I’m never letting you go.” He whispered before he stood up, pulling her with him. “Come on… let’s get back.”

            Marian couldn’t begin to understand the way she felt about him. It was… _complete_. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t either, that she wouldn’t let him go. But her voice wouldn’t work… it was too much. She took a deep breath, stilling herself as she stood up, nodding to him. She gathered the clothes she wore here, Kable standing as well.

            Kable was eager to get back… he had been in a constant state of hyper alertness and exhaustion the entire time they’d been out here. He was glad that the elf had been with them… that had given Marian someone else to focus on. He knew her… he knew she was trying to run. He didn’t know exactly what had happened but… now he had a damn good idea. He witnessed their exchange… he tilted his head at them. So… Marian had finally found someone. No wonder she had tried to run. But he thought, as he had thought many times over the past year… the dwarf was good for her. He approved… he could feel the way the dwarf got excited around her and how close he watched her. He could tell that Marian felt the same way about him. What he _didn’t_ like was the idea of riding on the dwarf’s bike…

            Varric holstered his revolvers and pulled his coat on as Marian silenced the fire and cast the area into near darkness, the moonlight their only guide. He led them back through the brush and to his bike, the subtle glow helping him find it. Kable splayed his paws awkwardly when Varric picked him up and set him on the seat in front of Marian. It was cramped but doable… Varric felt Marian’s firm hold on him gave him comfort as he raced back towards Kirkwall. It only took a few hours to get back now that he could push the bike to its limit instead of moving at a crawl… but it felt like he’d been gone for years. Everything was different now. Kable jumped off before he even hopped the curb, bring the bike to a stop and shutting it off, Marian was just as quick to get off. He smirked at both of them, shaking his head at them. He fidgeted with his keys as he stood there on the sidewalk. He looked around at the nearly empty street, the Hanged Man still drumming with patrons, though it was thinning for the late hour. He glanced back at her and gave her a side nod, gesturing towards the door that led to his lift.

            Marian smirked at the way he was acting. Stepping onto the lift felt… just different. Kable was eager to get somewhere that was warm. She held her bundle of clothes in front of her and kept cutting her eyes over at him… it was so strange being in this small space with him again. She couldn’t help but remember the last time they were here together… it felt like a lifetime ago. When the lift reached the top and he opened the grates she stepped out and nearly dropped her clothes… her lips parted as the shock hit her. She looked over the wreckage… “….. What….” She looked at him suddenly, worried that someone had broken in… for that was what it looked like. But she stilled… his jaw was set and he was looking down at his keys very intently, the muscles around his jaw flexing. “Varric…”

            Varric didn’t have to look… he knew what she was seeing and he wasn’t proud of it. He felt the shame creeping up the back of his neck as he ground his teeth. Her questioning call of his name had him clear his throat but still… he could not look at her. “I kind of… lost control.” He swallowed roughly, fidgeting with his keys. “I didn’t know why you snuck out… I thought… you left because you were ashamed of…” He looked up and ran a hand down his mouth and chin, setting his other hand on his hip, pushing his coat out of the way to do so. “And then… I didn’t know where you went or… if I’d ever…” He hung his head, shaking it at himself.

            Marian looked back out over… the fallout and then back at him. She dropped her things as she stepped over to him, taking his face in her hands as she swayed slightly, leaning in and kissing him quickly first… then again… and again… longer each time. She didn’t know how seeing the destruction made her feel exactly… she couldn’t explain it… but she had to touch him.

            Varric couldn’t look at her… even when he felt her hands on his face… he closed his eyes with the first kiss.. and reached for her with the second. The third, he fisted his hands in her too tight sweater. He felt the tremble inside when she pulled away, he rested his brow against hers and shook his head again. “Don’t ever do that again.” He breathed.

            Marian nodded in return, hearing the anger in his voice even for how low it was. “I won’t.” She took a steadying breath before pulling away. She said nothing more as she just started picking up the scattered papers. Kable made himself useful, the broken pieces of chair were gingerly collected and trotted over to the baja style fireplace and laid beside it.

            Varric righted the couch and retrieved the blanket, laying it back over the cushions. He patted it and gave a soft whistle to Kable. “It’s all yours now bud.” The mabari didn’t have to be told twice, he jumped up and stretched out with a deep sigh.

            Marian set the stack of papers on the table and glanced at them with a bit of a smile before she gathered up her clothes again. “I need to get to work down at the docks tomorrow… I need some new clothes something fierce.”

            Varric tossed his keys onto the everything table and sighed heavily, working his coat off with a wince, his holster came next, both being draped over one of the remaining chairs. “The expedition crew should be getting back in a week… until then… I’d be happy to buy you some clothes…”

            Marian visibly winced at that. “No… it’s… alright, I can just wash these and some up after work. Plus, I’m sure Merrill would like to have her clothes back… she doesn’t have many to start with.”

            Varric gave her a _look_. That very same one… he wasn’t going to be moved on this. He followed her as she walked around the corner and when she set her clothes down in his chair, he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Hey… let me take care of you… just a little. I’ll just give you the coin… you can buy them yourself, no one will know.”

            Marian leaned against him but turned slightly to give him her own look, even narrowing her eyes at him slightly. “Fine… but only because you owe me a pair of underwear anyway.” She raised a brow at him before pulling away and walking into the bathroom only to find herself being followed. She gave him an odd look before he gave her a _what?_ one, her eyes flashed as his fireplace lit and she gave him a firm look. “Varric… you can’t come to the bathroom with me… that’s too creepy.”

            Varric chuckled and held his hands up, backing away. “I know.” He was pushing her… just to see how much she would allow. He turned around and pulled his thermal off, tossing it into the growing pile of laundry before he sat down on the bed and started unlacing his boots, he’d just stood back up and unbuckled his belt when he heard the shower kick on. He glanced over and saw steam rising out of the curtain… damn, a hot shower? No fucking way he was missing out on that.

            Varric joined her in the shower and they spent a lot longer than needed getting clean, even longer getting dry before he took her to his bed and showed her just how much he’d missed her… and got everything he gave given right back to him. Then he fell asleep with her in his arms… it was… one of the crazies yet most important nights of his life.


	20. Act II

A week later, the expedition crew had returned… a month later, Varric had completed all of the transactions for their Deep Roads finds just like he’d said he would. Marian was a wealthy woman… and Varric added a nice chunk to his personal accounts. Marian bought back her Mother’s family home and moved her there. But she picked up a couple of groupies, Bodhan and Sandal. Two dwarves from the expedition. Bodhan, an aging merchant and Sandal, a simple rune crafter. Marian didn’t like the massive estate but Mother seemed more comfortable there. Marian had even extended the invitation to Gamlen, but he refused. She did however make sure he was debt free, the least she could do.

            It took less than a week after they moved into the estate for a letter to arrive from Carver. This one wasn’t addressed to Leandra either. Marian sat at the desk staring at it for an hour before she finally opened it. It was short… started out formal… but quickly fell out of whatever rubric he had been taught. He signed it, _Stay Safe Sister-Mine, Ser Hawke._ Marian did not write him back. She couldn’t… even now. She didn’t think it was a good idea either. She didn’t know what all the Templars could do… could they detect a letter written by a mage? She had no idea. She’d have to find out.

            In the whirlwind of all the changes, it was practically impossible for Marian to slip away. She quickly figured out a solution… Varric was the proud owner of the only cellar key to the Amell estate. So, on the nights that Marian couldn’t come to him… he’d go to her, and thanks to his clearance from Kable, he had no problem slipping into her room. It also helped that Leandra never dared invade her eldest’s privacy… and that there was a lock on her door. More often than not, Varric would just walk right out the front door well into the morning, after Leandra had already left for the day to go do… whatever it is that she did. Between the Viscount calling on Marian and the various other favors that were being asked of her, the crew had quite a lot of jobs to do… and with jobs came coin. Varric had more than enough excuses to be at the Hawke Estate (as he called it most of the time) quite often. He was in charge of Hawke’s accounts… he was her advisor in financial matters… and a member of her rapidly-growing-in-reputation crew.

            For a year, it seemed that everyone knew where to send their letters of calling. Between dealing with old headaches and new ones, Marian started to feel herself being stretched too thin. But she never stopped… she never said no. She couldn’t. When a letter came from Arianni… an elven woman from the alieanage who’s son she had helped avoid the circle the year before came… she didn’t hesitate. She went to her without a second thought.

            Arianni was beside herself with worry… pacing in her small home in the elven part of the city. When the firm knock sounded she rushed the door, throwing it open and let out a relieved breath. “Serah… thank the Creators you’ve come.”

            Marian stepped in, taking the worried Mother by the shoulders with her. “Arianni… yes… now what has happened.” Varric, Fenris, and Isabella all followed… Fenris shutting the door behind him. He didn’t approve of how they’d let Feynriel escape to the Dalish… but after what he’d seen since… he wanted to see it through. Isabella was here because… she was just there.

            “It’s Feynriel… they’ve taken him.” Arianni gripped her hands together in front of her. “Not a week ago… he fell into a dream from which he cannot wake… You showed him such kindness before… please help him once more…”

            Marian’s eyes closed with dread before she opened them again, looking at the woman carefully. “If he is lost in the fade… I can try to find him… but Arianni you must understand… if he has traveled too far, even a Dreamwalker…” She shook her head slightly at her.

            Arianni nodded at her. “I understand… the Keeper has explained it to me…”

            Fenris spoke up, his brows going low with confusion. “The Keeper?”

            “I… am here.” Keeper Marethari spoke up as she walked out of one of Arianni’s bedrooms, where she had been preparing for the journey.

            Marian did the slow I-don’t-want-to-look turn before she spoke, her voice filled with a certain amount of discomfort. “Marethari.”

            Fenris however, was shocked to see a Dalish Keeper in the city. He did not speak again though he did find himself listing towards Isabella… and he felt the pirate’s discrete hand brush against his for only a heartbeat. It was all he needed… he straightened and waited to see what would come of this.

            Marethari nodded to the woman. “Hawke.” She held her hand out to the woman as she walked up to her, touching her cheek just slightly, tilting her head as she looked at her closely. “It pleases me to see that you have taken such great care of that light in your heart… it is much brighter than last we met.” Marethari gave the dwarf a knowing look before removing her hand and turning back to Arianni. “Everything has been prepared… are all of them going?”

            Varric grew uncomfortable under the Keepers knowing look, he glanced around to see if anyone else noticed it… when he was sure no one did he spoke up in Arianni’s stead. “All… of us?” Isabella and Fenris both were wondering the same damn thing!

            Marian shook her head. “No, I can… I can go, they don’t have to.”

            Arianni beamed at Marian. “I told you she was brave.”

            Marethari looked at them with almost a stern look. “I do not know what has kept Feynriel from returning… but if demons have taken him, it must be more than one… or at the very least a powerful one. This foe is far greater than just one mage… if Hawke goes in there alone, she very well may find herself in the same trap along with the boy.” She looked at Hawke carefully. “And whatever demon desires a Dreamwalker would most certainly not pass the opportunity to ensnare a Pyromancer as well, I am sorry Hawke… but you need the help of your companions.”

            Fenris and Isabella both looked… uncomfortable to say the very least at the idea. But both were equally as surprised when Varric stepped forward without any hesitation at all. “I’m in.” Varric gave Marian a firm nod before looking back at the Keeper… and he didn’t miss the almost _I knew you would be_ look she gave him in return. Fenris glanced at Isabella and spoke up next… if a dwarf was so willing to go into the fade, who was he to shy away. Marian had done much for him… Isabella agreed with a groan.

            Marethari had them all laying on bedrolls as she prepared the spell that would send them into the fade… Marian would find Feynriel once they got there. Marian looked to her left and saw Varric looking back at her… she saw the fear in his eyes and she hated it. She had fallen into whispered argument with him once they entered this room, ahead of everyone else but he’d hear none of it. He would either go with her or she wouldn’t go at all. She spoke loud enough for everyone to hear but she looked only at him. “Trust nothing that you see in there… believe in only your heart. Let it guide you.” She swallowed roughly, trying to still her worried gaze… her voice coming lower for him alone. “Don’t be afraid.” She watched as the enchanted smoke wafted around… seeking out those to ensnare. She waited until a tendril snaked towards each of them… watched as one came towards her and then violently turned away… she would not need it. When the smoke dove into them, she closed her eyes and stepped into the fade.

            _She opened her eyes and looked around… feeling lighter here. She did not call out… only looked. She knew she’d have to find them… even going together would have them scattered, if only a bit. She walked through the room and into the hall... and saw him. He was standing there, a revolver in his hand, wide eyed with fear as he stood so still. “Varric.”_

 _Varric felt every muscle tense… but not. He felt… wrong. Everything about this place was wrong. Every part of his mind screamed that he shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong here. It felt… just… wrong. Like he was in the middle of doing something so against his nature that it was drawing the attention of the Maker himself. He gripped his revolver, as if it could save him. He’d found himself in the hall… he didn’t dare move. She said to not trust a thing he saw… so he didn’t. He didn’t trust that he was still in Arianni’s house. He didn’t trust that he was still in Kirkwall. He hadn’t the first idea how the fade worked. It was eerily quiet… too quiet. Then he heard her voice and felt fear dump into him. Was it a demon? Did a demon find him? Come to expose his secret? He turned slowly and saw… her. But it was not her… was it? He looked at her carefully… she looked more solid… than anything else he saw._ Trust nothing you see in there… _He shook his head and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and stilling himself before he opened his eyes again…_ Marian… _he whispered her name in his mind. He softened to her immediately. There was no doubt. “Mare…”_

_Marian softened to him but reigned it in quickly. “Easy…” She walked over to him and settled her hand on his chest. “Hide that feeling… it will draw attention.” She gave him a knowing look before they found Fenris and Isabella in the living room, both of them thoroughly freaked. Marian had them calmed down before she took them all through the fade to where she sensed Feynriel. She didn’t want to think on what the Keeper had asked her to do should she find the boy too far gone._

Fenris came awake first… sitting up and gasping. He trembled and shook, his lyrium markings gyrating… he looked over at Hawke… and felt the shame run deep. He glanced up sharply at the Keeper… her knowing eyes did little to comfort him. “We found the boy.” Was all he said… he pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them… and just watched.

            Isabella jerked awake an hour later, slamming her hand down into the hard floor as she sat up. “Mother Fucker!” She was panting, she looked around almost wildly. She locked eyes with Fenris and then the Keeper… and then she looked over at Hawke. She felt… she didn’t know what she felt. She got up with a huff and started pacing, biting at her nails as she kept looking back down at Hawke.. and over at Varric.. both of them so still. She snapped an answer to the pestering Arianni. “They’re working on it!”

            Fenris felt his nervousness only continue to grow the longer they waited… he glanced at the Keeper, this Dalish elder who stood like a sentinel, watching over them. Isabella had finally stopped pacing and she just leaned against the wall, looking like she wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. He had silenced the lyrium in his skin but he still felt the shame… the regret. Suddenly… the air around them changed… he looked up at the Keeper and saw her features harden. He glanced at Hawke and stood up quickly, panic dumping into him… her skin was glowing a deep amber… he saw a near white light leaking out from under her closed eyes. He looked over at Varric… waiting for him to wake… for him to fail… just as both he and Isabella had done. He watched as the dwarf twitched… his muscles jerking… his brow drawn low and sweat beading there. But… he did not wake. Suddenly Fenris found himself against the wall, pressed there by an unseen force. He let out a strangled cry, anger lighting his markings. He looked and saw who was holding him. The Keeper stood before them, her hands stretched out and in that split second she sent out a sort of wall… Fenris couldn’t move, his eyes widened just as he saw Hawke’s back arch and she jacked up off the floor… and flames rolled out of her… deep blue and dangerously hot… _she’s possessed!_ That was his thought… but that wall came from the Keeper and shielded them. The shockwave went out, singing the walls, shaking the foundation. And then… it was over. Fenris was on his own feet, Isabella landed harder than he. The Keeper stood there just as calm as she had been before. Fenris’ eyes shot to Varric… and found him unharmed… he blinked rapidly at that before the dwarf coughed deeply and opened his eyes, rolling with a groan.

            Varric felt groggy… like he’d downed a fifth of whiskey… many times over. He shook his head as he palmed the floor and pushed himself up. “Mare…” Speaking actually hurt… he coughed again, it was deep… and stung. But she did not answer him... panic flared in his heart. “Mare!” He said louder, looking over at her.

            The Keeper spoke in her stead. “She is fine…” Marethari stepped over and knelt down beside Hawke… settling her hand on her clammy brow. “She is just exhausted. It took much to vanquish the demon that sought to enslave both her and Feynriel.”

            Fenris blinked rapidly. “Vanquish? You mean.. that.. that wasn’t a demon?”

            Marethari shook her head in a distracted way before looking at him with an odd expression. “Of course not, dear boy… and that was but a fraction of what she is capable of… the fall out in the fade made what we saw here look like nothing more than the flame of a candle.” She turned her attention back to the woman.

            Varric crawled the few feet over to her and settled his hand on her wrist… feeling for a pulse to ease his own mind… a covert caress of his thumb was given before he rolled and collapsed against the wall, sitting there and feeling like he’d been hit by a truck, he coughed again, tasting copper in his mouth. “Dammit…” He wiped at his lips, blood smearing across his cheek. “Fucker.. sicked a whole damn group on us…”

            Marethari looked down at Varric’s hand on Hawke, her gaze following him when he sat. “What of Feynriel?”

            Varric took a breath that rattled in his chest. “He’s fine. He’s leaving the Dalish… going North to find someone who can teach him how to better control his…” He hissed as he tried to sit up further. “Whatever the hell it is he can do.”

            Marethari nodded even as Arianni started to cry. “He is wise to seek out guidance.”

            Varric just nodded but his eyes stayed fixed on Marian. _Wake up Mare… come back to me._ He hated this… he wished everyone would fucking leave so he could pull her to him… run his fingers through her hair and whisper to her, call her back to him.

            Marethari saw the way the dwarf was looking at her. She stood up and turned to everyone… “Let us give them time to recover. Arianni… may I speak with you.” She waved her hands, ushering everyone out of the room.

            Isabella was more than happy to get the hell out of there, she left all together, shutting the door behind her and heading straight for the Hanged Man for a stiff drink, marginally surprised that it was almost nightfall… when they had arrived there that morning.

            Varric glanced up and wondered… if Marethari… it didn’t matter. As soon as everyone had left he wasted no time scooting over to her, even as pain lit him up. He pulled her up into his arms, smoothing her hair back from her face as he cradled her upper body against him. “Mare…” He kept his voice low, whispering only for her. “Come back to me…” His hand shook as he settled it on her cheek and pressed his lips to her brow before settling his own there. “Come on, beautiful… open those eyes for me.” He took a shallow breath and felt the tremble go through him. It was the slightest movement and then her eyes fluttered opened, pupils shrinking to pinpoints before leveling out. A hand to his cheek… he closed his eyes tightly and fought the tremble in his chin. “Hey…” The small smile that tugged at him only had that damned chin shaking more. After the fade… the demons… the fighting… hell, they’d been through some scraps before but that was different. He pulled her closer to him with the arm that held her, his knee bending to keep her there, and buried his face in her neck. His words muffled. “Let’s not do that again.”

            Marian heard his whisper, as if on a breeze… and so far away. But it was easy to find her way back to him. She came to with his face in hers… and the worry she saw in those hazels tore through her. She lifted her hand to his cheek… “Hey handsome…” Her voice came so small. She felt beyond drained… the power it had taken to protect him… had almost taken it all from her. And she’d have given it all… to keep him safe. She gave no thought as to who was around, trusting in him. She smiled softly at his muffled words, her hand sinking into his hair with the embrace. “Agreed.” She whispered back.

            Fenris stood just outside the door, looking in… he had just glanced to check… having heard the softest of voices. He… was stunned beyond anything. He pulled back just as quickly… looking around nervously for he was pretty damned sure he wasn’t supposed to see what he saw… that he wasn’t supposed to know what he now knew. _Maybe… it’s just because they are such good friends?_ Yeah… and he was up to be Viscount. The way Varric was holding her? How he was looking at her? Not only where they absolutely together… there was a familiarity there that was… damn, how long have they been together? It was not new… that much Fenris was certain of. But he didn’t say anything, nor did he look at either of them any differently when they walked out of the room, seemingly back to being just the Storyteller and Hawke, separate yet friendly. He’d keep their secret. He owed Hawke that much… and now, he owed her much more. Later that night, he visited her at her mansion in Hightown, which was just around the corner from his… he apologized awkwardly for betraying her in the fade. The words tasted hollow for the severity of how he’d wronged her. He felt even worse when she told him that it was alright, that she didn’t blame him… that he was inexperienced with demons… and as such, could not have been expected to resist their charms. From that moment on, he looked at her differently. She, a mage… had so easily denied the demon when he… had not. He, who thought himself so much… better… than mages.. had failed so magnificently where she had succeeded seemingly without thought. But Marian didn’t stay, once Fenris left… she did too.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Bangs the Smut Gong* Smut chapter!!! Smut chapter here!!!   
> NC17 and all that.

Varric sighed as he leaned back in his chair that night… the tincture that Anders had brewed for him had taken care of the damage that had been done and damn was he grateful for it. He crossed his ankles as he propped his feet up on the low table in front of him, his sleep pants shifting around, his bare chest catching the lamplight. The loft plenty warm to combat the chill that had all the windows frosted… Winter had arrived in Kirkwall and he couldn’t help but feel better. He loved this time of year. “Do you think the kid will be okay?” He said in a somewhat distracted manner.

            Marian walked by, handing him a mug of spiced ale, a glass kept for herself. “He should be… if there’s anywhere he can find answers, it’ll be in Tevinter.” She settled on the small chair that he’d gotten and placed opposite the table… it was comfortable and soft, fabric covered as opposed to his leather… and he hadn’t said a word when he’d done it, he’d just done it. His large flannel shirt hanging off of one of her shoulders, brushing against the tops of her thighs and being pulled even higher when she shifted and tucked her feet in the chair with herself, sitting in it improperly.

            Varric nodded a thanks to her as he accepted the mug, taking a long pull of the ale and letting out a content sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore…” He balanced the mug on the arm of his chair and let his head rest against the back, rolling slightly to look at her, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched her. Damn he loved seeing her in his shirt… he felt his pulse quicken… but he cleared his throat, trying to keep his mind off of that. He didn’t want to push her… she was so exhausted earlier. His worry overriding his desire. “Talk about something else.”

            Marian smirked at him after sipping her own drink, cradling it in both hands between her knees and chest. “Mother has found herself a new hobby…”

            Varric raised his brows. “Oh?”

            Marian nodded. “Mmmhm. She said she is to.. _start picking me out a suitable husband._ ” She cut his eyes over at him to gauge his reaction.

            Varric’s hold on his mug loosened and he almost dropped it… but he caught it quickly. He felt that complex starting to fuck with him… he glanced down at the drawstring on his sleep pants as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “That’s uh… well… what did you tell her?” Was that _his_ voice? When the fuck did it get so small?

            Marian licked her lips and looked back into her glass. “Well… she told me all of this and handed me a stack of photos… all… nice noble men… all… with… fine… attributes… and… they all come from… fine… families.”

            Varric felt the beginnings of resignation start to settle in his veins… acceptance that this was just his life. Always second… always the _other_ man. Never good enough… always hidden. A _Tethras_. His features showed that resignation… falling into a set expression, his eyes still cast downward as he listened… just waiting for her to say it.

            Marian took a shallow breath before continuing. “Did you know that photographs make this horrid smell when they burn?” She raised her brows. “I didn’t know that… and did you know… that if you burn a whole stack of them while telling your shrieking Mother that she can take those noble pricks and shove them right up her ass… that you’ll actually render her speechless? And that if you do _that_ … she won’t speak to you for an entire week?”

            Varric’s brows went down slightly before he blinked a few times and looked at her. His lips parted as _he_ was rendered speechless… had she just… did she… he just stared at her. Open… and bare.

            Marian set her glass down on the table as she stood up and walked over to him, taking his ale and setting it down on the floor before straddling his lap as he just stared at her. “And did you know that when she does speak to you again… and tries to tell you that you’re being childish…” She settled her hands on his chest. “That you will tell _her_ that you have already found a nice man… from a good family…” She ran a hand through his hair. “But then… when you tell her that… she will start bugging you _incessantly_.” She did a dramatic roll of her eyes.

            Varric held her eye the entire time she made her way over to him… letting her take his ale… and settling his hands on her hips so easily when she sat on his lap. He was… in awe. She had come to the same crossroads that Bianca had… and she had gone the complete other way… he was no fool. He knew what her Mother had hoped to achieve by trying to marry her off to another noble family. It would resolidify the Amells in Kirkwall… and allow them to maintain their status. It would provide Marian with a safety net… one that he couldn’t provide for her. It would give her a house and nice things that… just weren’t him. He lived in this loft… above a bar. And he liked it. His business was half in the underworld and half in the light… the men her Mother had picked for her were no doubt upstanding citizens. Better than him in every way… and she’d still chosen him. He slid his hands under the hem of the shirt and settled them on her bare hips, his pupils dilating with the realization that she wore nothing beneath his shirt. He was having trouble finding the words… his heart was just… and she… he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “You could do so much better than a liar like me…”

            Marian smiled softly at him, leaning in and brushing her nose against his. “I like your lies…” She whispered, toying with his earrings gently. “And there is no one in all of Thedas better than you… for I am yours.” Her low spoken words held all the love she felt for him. She didn’t give a fuck what her Mother had planned… she’d never marry. Her heart belonged to only one. Damn the consequences.

            Varric looked at her intently… damn, this woman… she went right through him. He reached further around and tightened his hold on her… his length growing rigid beneath her. “And I’m only yours.” His voice came out thick… laced with adoration, awe, and desire. He’d wanted to let her rest… to give her time to recover from the day… but he needed to touch her. He needed to feel her body against his… he needed to feel that deep connection to her. He saw the arousal flare in her eyes at the feeling of him… he felt the warmth start astride him… his breathing already picking up. He leaned forward just the few inches it took to claim her lips, a rush of breath leaving him as she deepened the kiss and followed him back to where he had been, inadvertently shifting her hips, freeing him to slide his hands further around to take hold of her rear like he so often loved to do. He took his feet off the table and planted them on the floor, suddenly grateful his chair was so large… _roomy_. His tongue danced with hers, his pulse pounding in his entire body, throbbing in his hard erection. He ran his hands down her rear, pulling at her, spreading her just enough to make her sigh before he traveled around, staying beneath the shirt and sliding between them, reaching upwards and lifting her breasts in his hands. Heavy with need, she moaned against him as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, causing them to tighten and her core to weep… he growled low as he felt her starting to soak through his sleep pants. She reached between them and began unbuttoning the flannel, exposing her chest before she broke the kiss with a gasp and pulled him to her. He was more than eager… lifting a breast to his mouth as he suckled at her, her back arching as he massaged her, his pained length jerking beneath her as she continued to coat him. He flicked her nipple with his tongue, knowing how much she liked it… he was rewarded with a slow roll of her hips, which had his eyes nearly rolling back… his length hardening even more for how wet she was, he could feel the heat coming off of her. He shifted his attention to her other breast and had her grinding herself against him in no time, both of them panting as he nipped at her. His hands sank back down, his thumbs reaching between them as he leaned back. He watched her as he bit at his bottom lip, desperate for her… her hands roamed all over his chest and neck, arms and hands, urging him to touch her. He moved one hand to her hip as he sank a thumb between her folds, gasping as his hips bucked just a bit… finding her swollen and slick… his cock flexed against her, trying to seek her out… he had to be inside of her. He reached for his waistband only to find her hands there before his. He held his hands out, as if he had a weapon pointed to him. His breaths sawing in and out of him as she lifted herself and he did the same, his hips rising as she worked his pants down, freeing his length to slap back against his abdomen causing him to hiss in response. Then he felt her hands on him… she wrapped her hand around him and gave him an agonizingly delicious stroke from base to tip, making him squirm, his hands going into fists as his eyes burned with need. “Please… Mare…” His voice left him as she stroked him again, pulling a moan from him as his hips twisted and he forced himself not to thrust against her hand. She was breathing just as heavily as he was as she looked at him, her eyes alive with magic and desire. Her response had his cock jerk in her hand. “ _Tell me what you want…_ ” She lowered herself just enough to rub the tip of him against her swollen folds, her honey coating him as he groaned deep in his throat and she shuddered from the need. Her core aching with demand. She loved toying with him… just as he did with her… getting him to this point where he was mad with need… it drove her just as mad. Varric’s hips jerked as he felt her… damn she was so ready. He knew what she was doing… it was his _favorite_ game. And he loved doing it to her… but he had to admit… he loved it more when she did it to him. He kept his hands up, as per the rules… “Mare…” He breathed, his cock painfully hard as she kept running the tip of him between her folds, causing him to pant and tremble… She swayed from the feeling as she moaned to him. “ _Tell me…_ ” Maker, she loved the feeling of him… he was thick and hard, ready to fill her, stretch her and make her scream. She watched as his gaze intensified and felt his length nudge against her core each time she set it to her opening, he knew exactly where it was. “You know what I want…” His words came out strangled… she smiled wickedly at him and he knew she would keep teasing him, but he didn’t have the patience tonight. Not tonight… he reached for her, watching as her eyes widened… he took hold of her hip in one hand while he replaced hers on himself… nudging her hand out of the way, he found her opening even as she backed away, trying to prolong it… but he couldn’t wait any longer… even as she tried to stop him, he forced her down onto him. They moaned in unison… all thoughts of making him wait left her as she felt him kicking inside of her, her core gripping him tightly, his hand on her hip holding her just as firmly as she held onto him. Varric’s mind splintered when he felt her slide down onto him, damned if she wasn’t as slick as she had ever been. Hot and wet, just how he wanted her… how he loved her. Her body gripped him tight and damn, he almost lost it right there. He held her in place with the hand on her hip as he leaned back… sliding down further in the chair, shifting his feet as he widened his stance. His other hand quickly finding her breast... his voice came out dark and demanding when he spoke. “Move…” The command issued, he felt her body shudder astride him. And she obeyed… just as she always did. This was how it was with them… the control always went from her to him the moment before he entered her… then she pulled this whole other side out of him. One he didn’t even know he had… he had this will to dominate her. Everything male in him demanded it. And she loved it. He could be rough but he could also be gentle… he had left bite marks on her, marring her body from his vivacious appetite… yet he’d also rocked her with a tenderness that had nearly made her weep from the love she felt. In a life where she had been left to decide everything, be the strong one… the one everyone turned to… he took control here. And he was a generous lover… never leaving her wanting. He watched her as she rotated her hips, a ragged breath leaving him as he felt her stroke him from within… her hand covered his on her breast. Her other hand gripping his forearm as his muscles tensed and swelled for her. She fell into a sweet rhythm he knew all too well… and one that spoke to that place inside of him that felt the pull to her. He never felt closer to her than when they were joined… and thus he sought the comfort the connection brought. To show her his love… to make her _feel_ it. His groin flexed, sending himself up into her in time with her movements, he groaned as he felt himself sliding in and out of her, just the slightest bit but more than enough to pull the sounds from him… and her. She made the most wonderful sounds when he was inside of her… his hold on her hip tightened as her pace quickened. He felt her need racing around her core, it gripped at him more… intently. His other hand went to her hip so he could hold her better… he moved her against him harder as he thrust himself up into her, driving deeper as she moaned loudly for him. Her nails dug into his forearms as she rode him faster, desperate for release. When it crashed into her, she threw her head back and screamed his name… damned if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, her in the throes of her climax… her breasts swollen and pert… her back arched… her skin aglow in that special way for him… her body pulling him inside of her and pulsing around him as she doused him. He growled with the masculine satisfaction that coursed through him, reaching his hold around as he sat up just enough to do so, his muscles trembling as he slid to the edge of the chair, spreading his legs to give himself more room, her arms around his neck as he gripped her just under her rear and lifted her before slamming her down onto him as he thrust up into her at the same time, making her cry out for the force of it. He bit down on his lower lip as she began nipping at his neck, he forced himself up into her as far as he could, feeling her honey drip down his sack as he jerked around her… she tongued his earlobe, taking one of his earrings in her teeth and giving it the slightest tug, his length reaching further within her. She released it and whispered in his ear… “Come for me…” Those words that had him diving into her neck, his rough cheek scraping against her as he bit down on the skin just between her neck and shoulder, while he seemed to grow desperate, clawing at her rear as he began thrusting into her, a rhythm that was bordered on insane… he had her screaming so much her voice was cutting out as he made strangled sounds each time he slammed himself into her. His hand had moved to her shoulder, for leverage… his other arm had shifted beneath her knee… for counter pressure… everything about him became more determined… more primal. She had her head thrown back as he pounded himself into her… riding the waves of pleasure as another orgasm gripped her body, far more fierce than the one before it. She knew that was what he was after… the loud groan he gave in response as she felt him grow harder had her grabbing for him, her fiery gaze focusing on him. His bangs wet with sweat hung in his eyes, those eyes nearly all black as his pupils almost eclipsed the iris. His jaw set yet lips parted… his muscles all tense as he focused on her. He felt his sack grow heavy as she doused him a second time… the base of his shaft growing tight, he moved faster… desperate and demanding, want driving him on. The world vanished, there was only her… her eyes ablaze with passion… his climax slammed into him with a viciousness that had him cry out, his gravel filled voice filling the air as his seed spilled into her in a rhythm all its own, he held her to him as he put his brow to hers, trembling as it overtook him. She loved seeing him when his orgasm gripped him, he was magnificent. He was the only person on the planet in that moment… everything else just disappeared. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer to him as he twitched and jerked around and within her… she panted astride him. He gave her a wicked smile… and she started shaking her head at him. “No… no… Varric…” But her tone was playful… Varric just nodded as he took hold of her around her thighs and stood up, stepping out of his sleep pants and carried her the few feet over to the bed. He made love to her well into the night and the next morning… he’d bent her over the everything table while she was getting ready to leave. He’d whispered in her ear… to be honest, quite raunchy stuff… but one statement struck even him as extremely… territorial. _I want you to go with my seed still inside you…_ He sat in one of the dining room chairs, catching his breath as she left… that statement had jarred him. Damn, he had it bad… _real_ bad. He’d never been… that way… before. And he couldn’t let himself start now… not when he had to keep their relationship on the down-low.

            He also had another problem all together… he was pretty damn sure he was addicted to her body. If he went more than two days without being inside of her, he actually started to shake. They had just finished a job for Aveline, checking in on Ser Emeric for her… it was late and Anders and Merrill had already split off to head home. They were walking through Lowtown… just walking… it was actually a calm job. But Varric’s eyes were fixed on Marian’s rear as she moved… it had been four days since he’d had her and he thought he was going insane… he felt sweat breaking out over his brow and a tremble working its way down his spine. They were nowhere near the Loft… or her Estate… but he saw an alleyway coming up… and he shook his head at himself. _What the fuck are you thinking!?_ He wasn’t thinking. That was the point. He’d resisted… and when she told him that her Mother was throwing some kind of freaking party tonight… and that she had to make an appearance. He nodded and bashfully looked at her. “Hey Mare… I uh… I think we need to kind of… take a break or something.”

            Marian raised a brow at him. “Are you okay… you look… you don’t look too good.”

            Varric didn’t feel too good either, it was like there was this low level hum going through his entire body. He leaned in to her, right there on the street… his hands going to the lapels on her coat, spreading them just a bit, his eyes fixed on her thermal covered breasts, feeling that hum seem to grow louder and damned if he didn’t get hard right there on the fucking street. “I don’t feel good either… I mean…” He licked his lips as he glanced up at her. “I don’t feel like myself…”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The song she sings here is "You Fill My Heart" by Jason Walker... such a sweet song.]

Marian’s eyes widened as he so blatantly stepped into her personal bubble… in view of the public. She took hold of his wrists and then looking around sharply to see if anyone was watching, she felt him against her. What the hell was his deal!? His voice was shaky… his brow was covered in sweat and she didn’t miss how his hands shook. He looked… if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he looked strung… out… when he looked up at her, her throat tightened in an _oh shit_ sort of way. She saw the blue veining in the whites of his eyes. “Maker…” She stepped away from him and headed straight for the alleyway that _he_ had resisted… dragging him behind her… his steps were far too eager. He _was_ strung out… _fuck_. She nearly threw him behind the dumpster… looking around and making sure no one was anywhere near them. She looked back at him as he leaned against the wall panting… and lacing his fingers with hers. “Varric…” She reached for him, brushing some hair off his brow, frowning when he turned into her hand and nipped at her fingers, reaching for her and grabbing hold of her coat, pulling her to him almost too roughly, making her stumble. “Varric, listen to me.”

            Varric’s brain was… shorting out on him or something… he couldn’t think clearly at all. It was… something was wrong. He had never felt like this before. He followed her into the alley, and knew that he was wrong for thinking that she’d allow him to take her in a place like that, but it didn’t stop his groin from tightening. He fell against the wall and immediately reached for her, his heart was pounding but… the beat was off. He heard her but he couldn’t focus… he jerked her belt loose, pulling her back to him each time she tried to push herself away. He felt this darkness sinking into the back of his mind… this… overwhelming need… but it was… different. It was… unnatural.

            “Varric… stop… listen to me… you’re going through lyrium withdrawals…” She had seen it before... he was pulling her to him, his pupils fixed… unresponsive… it was terrifying to see him like this. She kept trying to put some space between them, but each time she did, it seemed to only encourage him more. “Varric…” She yelped a second later, his hand around her neck.

            Varric was growing frustrated… angry… he jerked her back to him only to have her pull away again. He didn’t even know what he was doing… his hand slammed onto her neck, gripping her and pulling her to him… his other hand finally jerking her belt free, spinning and pinning her to the wall that had been behind him. He kicked her boots, spreading her legs as he pulled at her jeans, tearing the buttons free. He felt her hands on him, pushing and clawing… he only tightened his hold on her throat… his other hand snapping his buckle free when he felt a hand on his own throat. Suddenly his eyes went wide… his spine went rigid as all his muscles stiffened. He stared into her white hot eyes as she said words under her breath, her other hand making a beckoning motion, her slender fingers flexed, the tendons tight… he felt that hum grow loud, so loud it made his head scream… but then… it got quieter… and then… it was gone. She released him and he staggered back a foot or two… taking a deep breath. He gasped for air… his hand on his throat as he looked around, eyes wide. He was clear… for the first time in… days… his brain came back online… and he looked at her.

            Marian felt her terror kick in, a natural instinct to the situation she was in. Then she’d had about enough of that… she took hold of him… and though she couldn’t use magic on _him_ … the lyrium left in him would have no choice but to bend to her will. She stilled him… and then called it out of him… every last bit. She released him as soon as it was all done… sagging back against the wall. She couldn’t help the hitch that rocked her… she started pulling her jeans back together… tears falling, she couldn’t stop them… she didn’t blame him… but it didn’t matter to her body. That fear… it was something those who found themselves in that situation felt. She was pulling her belt tight, trying to get her jeans to fold over themselves and her belt to keep them in place but her hands were trembling.

            Varric covered his mouth as he watched her. He stepped towards her and reached for her, but she looked up so fast and he didn’t miss the subtle flinch around her eyes. He ran a hand into his hair and gripped at it. “Fuck… oh… _fuck me…_ ” Tears gathered in his eyes as he felt like… the worst… person… in the entire world. “Mare… I’m sorry…” He reached for her again but pulled back on his own, both of his hands going behind his head.

            Marian tried to still herself… she didn’t want to react to him that way. She cinched her belt and gave up… pulling her coat closed and buttoning it instead. She looked at him and saw the agony on his face… the tears in his eyes. “Varric… this is not your fault… it’s mine.”

            Varric gave her a disbelieving look. “How the hell can you say that… I just…” He started pacing… he couldn’t be still… his anger at himself too high, he shook his head sharply and took a hard turn, slamming a fist into the stone wall with a growling yell, feeling his knuckles shatter on impact.

            Marian took a ragged breath. “Varric… come here.” When he didn’t stop, she stepped towards him only to jerk back and cover her mouth before leaping for him and taking hold of his arm. “Stop.” She gave him a firm tone, but she didn’t yell. She tried to take hold of his now bloodied hand only for him to jerk out of her hold and back away from her, his hands held out.

            Varric shook his head at her. “Don’t, Mare… I…” He shook his head at himself… he let his hands fall… blood dripping down his fingers and falling onto the pavement. He was mentally beating himself to a pulp as she looked at him. He felt… terrified to be honest. Scared of himself… what he was capable of.. he never thought he… could ever… hurt her.

            Marian saw it all in his eyes. If nothing else… she knew by that look alone. “Varric… I didn’t think. You were going through lyrium withdrawals.”

            Varric looked confused. “I don’t understand… dwarfs are resistant and I haven’t been around any raw lyrium… how the hell could I be going through withdrawals…”

            Marian looked down at her boots for a second before glancing back up at him. “Resistant but not immune… and yes… you have.” She held her hands out before letting them fall back down. “Lyrium runs my veins Varric… every time we’re together…” She shook her head slightly. “That’s why… when you started withdrawing… you associated that want… with…”

            Varric’s features fell slightly as he listened. “With being inside of you.” He reached for her slowly… his hand trembling just as his chin did. “Dammit Mare… I am so… so sorry…”

            Marian stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to her. “I know…” She made a shushing sound as he held her gently… as if he didn’t dare to hold her any tighter. “I should have been more careful… I won’t let this happen again, my love… I promise.”

            Varric held his wounded hand out away from her, holding her more for her… than for himself… he didn’t know if he could ever truly trust himself with her again… her words rocked him though. “May the Maker strike me down if I ever hurt you again..” He shuddered, he did not deserve her. He… should have known what was happening to him, he should have realized… it did not excuse it, not in his mind.

            Marian didn’t go to her Mother’s party. She went to his loft instead... she cleaned his hand as he sat on the edge of the tub, a blank expression on his face as he stared at the floor. Then, they spent an hour in his tub, just being close. The events had shaken him to his core… and it took him awhile before he dared touch her beyond just holding her hand. So, when she had began to undress him, he had tried to stop her. But she would not yield… the steady way she looked at him nearly undid him. She led him into the hot bath and settled between his legs, leaning against his chest. He cradled her body… it was one of the most intimate moments in his life. It was soul soothing… when they dried off, he purposefully did not look at her. He didn’t want to risk it. He felt… unworthy, even still. He wrapped his hand with a bandage, feeling the tremor go through him… his whole body feeling as wounded as his knuckles. She didn’t allow him to wear anything to bed... nor did she wear anything. He had never been so nervous in his life… but in the darkness he felt her move closer to him beneath the covers. “Mare… don’t.”

            “Varric… relax…” She had scooted up beside him as he lay there, her head propped up, her elbow supporting it. She was higher up on the bed than he was. She settled beside him, she didn’t expect anything at all from him, she just wanted to be close to him. She wanted to soothe him… but he was so tense. She ran the back of her fingers down his cheek.  

            Varric took a deep breath, turning into her touch… and all at once, rolling into her, he wrapped his arms around her… yet moved further down the bed, settling his cheek against her abdomen. He sought comfort and nothing more, he trembled as he closed his eyes tightly. “Forgive me.” His voice came out far more unsteady than he had intended..

            Marian’s brow creased with concern, she sat up a bit when he reached for her, running a hand down his back as she bent over him, her other hand smoothing his hair back from his face. “There is nothing to forgive.” She whispered to him.

Varric cringed at that. “How can you say that…” He shook his head slightly. His self-loathing spurred him deeply.

Marian sighed heavily. “Because I love you.”

He felt his chin shake on him… “Dammit, Marian… I could have really hurt you…”

“But you didn’t.” She shook her head down at him, feeling him shake around her. He refused to answer… she could practically feel his mind shutting down on him. Damn, that man had more rabbit holes than anyone. But then again, they were all a little fucked up. She wanted to ease his storm… but she didn’t know how. So… she did what her father had always done for her… she sang to him. She cleared her throat and called forth her voice. Gentle and melodic, a cappella and only for him… she closed her eyes as she sang softly for him. “When I… I saw your face… It was like a space in my heart… was filled. It’s like I knew… from the very start… that you were every the part of me. And it’s like I have loved you since… from the moment when… since time began… you fill… my heart…” She swayed slightly to the beat in her mind… her fingers tapping out a rhythm on the bed. “Oh… oh love of mine… why did it take so long to find your touch… oh… it was never gone… even though it took so long to find you,  yeah… because I have loved you since… from the moment when… since time began… and I have loved you since… from the moment when… since time began...” She tilted her head to the side as she stretched the word out… “you fill… my heart.” She pulled at the words, her voice rising and falling, she wasn’t even aware that she was shinning for him.

Varric opened his eyes when he heard her voice. And damned if that voice of hers didn’t go right through him… just like everything else about her. He felt that tremble just… leave him. He listened to the words of her song and he’d never heard anything more touching in all his life. When she finished, he pulled away and looked at her. She was… so beautiful. His own Northern Star… guiding him home. Guiding him back to her. He had… no words. He just pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and whispering to her. “Mare… you are… everything… I never knew… I always wanted. I’ve loved you even before… I knew you.”

He didn’t make love to her that night… but he did spend a good hour just caressing her body as he held her. They didn’t speak… they just… were. He fell asleep with her in his arms… and woke the next morning with her still there. He quickly moved past the event with her help, her reassurance… and her love… but he never did forget… and he never did truly trust himself again. Each time there after that they made love, she pulled the lyrium from him with a tender kiss… it was a simple matter… but a step she always made sure to do.

            Three months later, things were back to their version of normal, they had been continued on as they had been. The entire house hadn’t a clue he was there half the nights out of the week. Until… he had an early appointment in the quarter. It was just before dawn when he rolled out of Marian’s opulent bed, a bed she didn’t particularly care for, but she did like that the room only had two windows and both had heavy curtains that could block out the sun if she wanted to sleep late. She always woke up just enough to roll into his vacant side of the bed, taking up the heat left by him. He’d always kiss her shoulder and brush her hair back as he picked up his keys from the end table, whispering those three words in her ear before he’d leave. She’d always murmur them back to him in her sleep. That morning though… damned if he didn’t get caught. He eased her door shut behind him and had just turned around when he came face to face with Leandra. In her house robe and slippers, her hair braided on either side of her face… a face that flickered with surprise and then disapproval. Her lips formed a thin line as her hands settled on her hips and he was pretty sure her foot was tapping just a bit in that slipper. He made a sort of weird sound as his breath caught… held… and then let out. He looked over his shoulder at the closed door… and then back at her… knowing that his hair was still messed from sleep… his shirt untucked… and his boots unlaced, there was no way he could lie himself out of this one. Yet she stood there and gave him the freaking _Mom_ look. He tucked his keys in his pocket and walked up to her, closing the gap so he could speak quietly to her, his expression bordered on apologetic. “No one knows.” His voice held even more graveled for how low he spoke combined with him just waking up.

            Leandra was stunned yet… not. She knew that something was different about Marian but she didn’t know what. She would have _never_ guessed it was _this_ … and not in a million years would she have guessed it was with this dwarf. She most certainly did not approve… not at all. And she knew her expression showed just that. “How long.” She spoke quietly as to not alert the entire house of this… seriously horrible idea. She hoped it was recent…

            Varric gave her a guarded look… but he answered. “A little over a year.”

            Leandra blinked rapidly at that, her hand covering her chest just below her throat. “Maker’s breath…”

            Varric gave her a stern look. “No one knows Leandra… and we want it to stay that way. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

            Leandra nodded though… she looked at him carefully… realizing for the first time how… strong he looked… and the telling straps of his holster. “I do.”

            Varric nodded and stepped around her, making his way down the stairs carefully for his untied boots.

            Leandra stared at him, watching him go but she took hold of the railing. “Sir Dwarf…” She called to him, not too loud, but enough. When he stopped and looked back at her, she had to ask. “Do you… love her?” Last bastion of hope… perhaps it was just casual. Surely this wasn’t… the one that Marian had spoke of… surely she had just been telling her that to get her to back off.

            Varric didn’t even bat an eye before he answered. “With all my heart.” He turned away and made a quick but quiet exit out of the estate, stopping to sit on a bench in the courtyard outside to tie his boots and put his hair up before continuing to the Quarter. He never brought his bike here, it was far too loud. He cursed under his breath the entire way… hoping that he hadn’t just screwed everything up.

            Leandra’s eyes closed at the answer and she gave a pained expression… but she went back to her room, having only  been up to get herself a drink of water. She sighed heavily once inside… looking down at her desk, picking up the few letters she had started writing to a few of the noble families in Starkhaven and Ostwick… old contacts… families she knew that had magic in their lines… and children around Marian’s age… _sons_ around Marian’s age. She tore the letters up and tossed them in the waste paper basket. “Then it is done.” She felt like crying… selfish of her… but she wanted grandchildren… and with Carver a Templar, Marian was her last hope. And now she went and got with a dwarf. “Oh who are you kidding Leandra… you knew she would never be that kind of girl.” She looked at the framed picture on the desk of Malcolm, Marian, and Bethany… _her_ mages. “Not after the childhood she had.” And besides… Dwarves were notoriously infertile even with their own kind… and children between dwarves and humans were unheard of completely.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :(

Apparently, Leandra had decided to keep their secret since the next time Varric saw Marian… she didn’t say anything of it to him. And she would have… she so would have. He also found it difficult to keep writing Bianca… but he did it. He had talked with Marian about it and she came up with a good idea actually… _just pretend it’s a story, one of your characters…_ it helped. But he received a letter, one that… once upon a time he would been thrilled to get. She was coming to Ostwick… and wanted to meet up. Now… he just smirked as he penned a reason why he couldn’t. Other than that, life kept going… but relations with the Qunari were rapidly deteriorating. They also found themselves in almost constant company with Anders. It was… odd. Odder still was one evening in particular, they had gotten stuck out on the Wounded Coast, having to make camp for the night.

            Fenris and Anders were arguing, as usual, as they sat around the fire. Marian and Varric sat opposite, shoulder to shoulder, their legs aiming away from one another comfortably, both of them leaning against a rock as they listened and chuckled every now and again. The current topic was mage relationships, as opposed to the only other thing the two of them argued about-- slavery… Varric couldn’t help but give Marian side long glances every now and again.

            Anders was growing more frustrated. “Mages aren’t even free to have relationships, within the circles they are casual relations at best, you can’t give the Templars anything to use against you.”

            Fenris rolled his eyes at the mage. “People will always have relationships, no matter where they are. There were many slaves who had committed relationships. If they dared to have them then you cannot tell me the mages in the circle did not have them either.”

            Anders gaped at Fenris. “Yes I can. It’s not just in the circles either, outside of them. Look at the mages you yourself know! Merrill tried and look where that got her! I know better than to even consider such a thing and Hawke is smart, she would never carry a relationship. Mages just don’t do it. We can’t, that’s just one more thing the Templars have taken from us.”

            Fenris was forever hounded by this mage concerning _mage rights_ and _what the Templars have taken from us_. He spoke without thought… and instantly regretted it. “Shows what you know, Hawke _is_ in a relationship, has been for well over a year at least.”

            Marian’s eyes widened and Varric choked on the water he had been drinking, beating a fist against his chest as he sat up. Anders looked at Fenris with no amount of shock spared, he took Varric’s reaction as shock just like his. “What?!” He looked at Hawke as she was still just staring at Fenris with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. “With who!?”

            Fenris looked at Marian and then Varric before Anders spoke, he shook his head at the mage, his mouth slamming shut as his brows drew low and he sent his eyes into the fire. “I uh… have no idea. That’s not the point!” He quickly tried to skip over it, change the subject, get back to the previous argument.

            Anders shook his head at him, completely focused on the elf. “Oh no, no, no… you know who it is! You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and then _not_ tell me who it is!”

            Fenris tensed all over, forcing himself to remain still but a split second, a tell… gave it away… he didn’t even mean to… and had Anders not been scrutinizing him he would have missed it all together. Fenris’ eyes shifted from the fire to Varric, a fraction of a movement… and he saw the dwarf’s angry glare pin him with a fierce warning. But Anders saw it… he looked at Varric quickly with an even more stunned look. “Andraste’s dimpled ass… no… fucking… way…”

            Marian’s hand covered her eyes with a groan but Varric was on his feet, anger trekking down his face. “You tell no one… do you fucking hear me?” He felt himself shake with anger. He looked at Fenris. “And I have no idea how the fuck you knew… but you keep it to your fucking self.”

            Anders held his hands up. “Are you kidding me? This is _too perfect._ ”

            Varric drew his revolver without a second thought and leveled it on the Mage… suddenly Anders’ eyes flashed and the deep baritone voice that came forth made it apparent that Justice was with them. “Ease yourself, dwarf… I have removed the information from Anders’ mind. He will not tell anyone for now he does not know it.”

            Varric blinked rapidly before he disarmed the crossbow and reholstered it. “Thank you… Justice.” He sat down, looking to Fenris who was listing away from the spirit.

            Marian had sat up, lifting herself up onto the rock beside Varric. “Why did you do that?” She was looking at Justice carefully.

            Justice shifted the body he was in, looking at Hawke and seeing the fire within her… and then to the dwarf… who’s song was all but gone for how removed he was from the stone. But he saw the tether that moved between them as clear as the dawn, it was dynamic… it gyrated and pulsed with their combined love. Her question drew his attention. “While I may be a spirit of Justice, I do know love when I see it. Anders believes love is a joke, a farce… I know that it is not.” He looked between the two of them, ignoring the anger and fear he felt from the elf beside him. “It is rare… and should be protected. Anders’ anger and bitterness would bring the Templars down upon the two of you without thought… I cannot allow that to happen.”

            Varric took a deep breath as he listened to the spirit. He glanced at Marian and then back to Justice. “Then…” He reached for her hand and took it easily… far easier than he thought he could in the presence of others. “We are in your debt.”

            Marian looked at Justice… quietly. His words just… touched her deeply. She felt Varric take her hand and she gave it a firm squeeze, giving him a gentle look before returning her attention back to the spirit. “Yes…” She looked to Fenris finally. “And please, Fenris, do not tell anyone again.”

            Fenris had listened yet… his fear was great whenever he had to deal with the spirit, he didn’t care if it was a spirit or a demon, he didn’t see much of a difference. Yet… he couldn’t deny that he was grateful for the spirit’s intervention. He looked at Marian and gave her an ashamed look. “I didn’t mean to… I’ll never breath a word of it again.”

            Varric gave Fenris another warning look before he lifted Marian’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently, looking back to the elf. “You understand why.” He gave him a highbrowed nod before releasing her hand.

            Justice made the corners of this body’s mouth turn upwards slightly as he witnessed the two of them. In the fade, there was nothing more revered than love. In all the world… it was the strongest of all the emotions. He looked at the elf, feeling his shame… “Prepare yourself with another argument, elf… Anders will not notice any time that has passed since right before you let slip their secret.”

            And just like that… Justice left them and Anders was none the wiser. It wasn’t the last time Justice came forth for the two of them… many times after, when it was just the three or four of them, Justice found himself taking over to just be with them. To talk with them. To laugh with them. Marian reminded him of the Warden… the dwarf and the elf reminded him of the time he spent with her and his friends, when he first met Anders. The boy had been so different then. Now, he was growing more angry every day… and bitter. The thoughts he had, leaned more towards vengeance than Justice… and it worried him. He told Marian and Varric his concerns… and found himself feeling comfort from their reassurance and support… they insisted that he tell them if Anders grew too much for him. Marian swore to him that if that were to happen, she would find a way to return him to the fade, to free him from Anders’ anger. Justice did not feel guilty over the times he overthrew Anders’ consciousness to be with them. They were his friends. Even the elf, Fenris… began to refer to him as such, even though he loathed Anders.

            Marian felt as though things were going… well, aside from the Qunari threat. Which was quickly getting out of control for the zealots that constantly tried to start a war with the ox men. All in all, other than that… things were going well though. Until… they weren’t.

Marian’s world crumbled around her. She held the lifeless patched together body against her… her Mother’s eyes open but lifeless. She felt… oddly numb. Her mother’s last words echoing in her heart… as she pulled her closer to her. _My little girl has become so strong… I love you… you’ve always made me so proud._

            Aveline stood nearby, a hand over her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. She sniffed as she looked on, she couldn’t even… she had no words. She felt as though her own Mother had just died… but she knew it paled in comparison to what Marian must be feeling. The whole way here she had seen the panic in Marian’s eyes, the denial… and the terror. Aveline had held onto hope… perhaps they had been wrong… only for that hope to be crushed.

            Justice stood beside the Guard Captain… when he overheard that they were trying to track Marian’s Mother, he came forward instantly. He felt his purpose appeased, knowing they had killed the man responsible… yet… he did not feel any better. He could feel the pain surrounding him. His attention was focused on Marian… he had witnessed the Mother’s love for her child. Nothing but pride… and longing. It was the most pure form of love. He also felt Marian’s loss… and her feeling of _being_ lost now, cut loose… set adrift. He also felt her magic welling up inside of her. He took hold of Aveline’s shoulder and started pulling her back quickly, shaking his head at her when she tried to get loose.

            Varric had never witnessed a parent’s death, he’d been there after the fact… he, having found his own mother… but he’d never seen the life leave someone’s eyes like that before. Leandra had looked right at him… she didn’t have to say a single word, her look said it all… _take care of her_. He felt Marian’s pain rolling out of her and fill him up. He swallowed roughly, already well out of Justice’s reach. He knelt down behind her and settled a hand on her shoulder, taking hold of it firmly. He could feel the vibration beneath her skin… and knew, though she looked calm on the surface… she was anything but. He moved even closer to her, right now… he didn’t give a damn who saw, though Aveline just took it as a friend offering comfort… a close friend, but nothing more. His other hand found her other shoulder as he settled his brow to the back of her head.

            Marian felt his hand… and then the other… and then he was there, so close to her. He didn’t speak… but she felt him there. It was as if… his presence gave her permission to feel this. And it hit her hard… her scream ripped out of her a second before her magic exploded outwards, the flames rolled out with such force that she felt Varric’s arms pull her to him as he held on. Her head was thrown back as her pain came out of her, tears streaming out of the corners of her eyes as her sobs wracked her body with abandon.

            Justice used the magic in this body and threw up a shield, protecting both this body and the Guard Captain as Marian’s pain became visible and was felt. The flames flew out from her and incinerated everything… burning away all of it. Purifying the entire area of any trace of that monster’s blood magic… as well as giving her Mother a burial fit for royalty.

            Varric held fast to her for the force of her pain… he knew the only reason his clothes weren’t burning was because he was holding onto her so fiercely, her magic seeming to mistake him for just another part of her. And he himself of course, was resistant. It didn’t stop him from feeling the heat or blooming with sweat. Her cries tore at him and he buried his face in her neck, whispering to her when she looked down at her Mother and watched her simply turn to ash and disappear, her lasting legacy now only the blood that ran through her and Carver’s veins.

            Once it was done… they all went back to her estate… Aveline stayed in a guest bedroom and Justice sat before the fire in the library with the mabari hound, who had always liked the spirit. Varric stood in the great room and broke the news to Gamlen… taking his wrath and sparing Marian the pain. Bodhan comforted Sandal who wailed with sorrow for he did not understand. Orana, the freed slave girl that had come to Marian by way of one of Fenris’ former captors sank down against the wall in Leandra’s bedroom, crying desperately into her apron. Varric found Marian curled up in the center of her bed… he held her tightly well into the night as she mourned… and he did not deny her when she sought comfort from his body.

            The next morning Aveline discovered their secret when she came to check on Marian and found her curled up against Varric, practically atop him, her head resting against his bare chest as he held her to him. She pulled back and turned to find herself facing Justice. Aveline opened her mouth to speak after she shut the door but couldn’t find the words.

            Justice looked at the Guard Captain fiercely. “They love each other.” He said low, gesturing for her to follow him before he clasped his hands behind his back. “I have vowed to protect them in their relationship.” He continued speaking to her as she fell into step beside him and he led her back downstairs. “I have already gone to great lengths to do so… even removing specific memories from Anders’ mind.” He led her into the library before he finally turned to face her.

            Aveline couldn’t have been more stunned… if… she didn’t even know what. But she followed Justice and did not miss the look he gave her. She listened… and when he faced her she looked back at him with a worried crease in her brow. “How long… have they…”

            Justice knew that this woman cared for Marian deeply… and thus was the only reason he was speaking to her now. “Since they returned from the Deep Roads.”

            Aveline swayed and sat heavily in one of the chairs by the fire. “Maker’s Breath… three years?” She stressed the time as she held a hand out. “How could I have missed this?”

            Justice watched her and couldn’t help his deep chuckle. “They have been very careful.”

            Aveline looked up at him with a disbelieving look. “Does… anyone else know?”

            Justice nodded. “Fenris and… Leandra knew.” He grew sorrowful at that… but only because of how he had witnessed Marian’s pain.

            Aveline shook her head as she leaned back with a heavy sigh. “I am glad she is not alone then…”

            Justice nodded in agreement… and left it at that.


	24. Chapter 24

It didn’t take long for the Qunari relations to deteriorate entirely. Aveline had asked Marian to go with her to the compound, since Hawke had formed a somewhat respectful relationship with the Arishok. Marian could feel the tension in the air… she didn’t like this shit at all. Especially since they knew _why_ the Qunari were actually in Kirkwall… yet Marian had elected _not_ to share that information. She wouldn’t rat anyone out… she just wouldn’t. Not that it mattered anyway, Isabella was long gone by now. Whatever helped her sleep at night.. Marian didn’t blame her. Whatever it took. But she sure was cursing her in mind’s eye when the shit hit the fan. Aveline and her barely made it to the compound’s gate when she stopped and looked at the Arishok… squared her shoulders and stood tall, giving him a _if you want it, come and take it_ look before she ducked out. Fenris and Anders were both waiting for them outside and they ran like hell. Marian had her daggers out, she didn’t dare use any magic with so many Templars already flooding the streets to help stem the tide… but Anders, he didn’t care. Luckily, the Templars simply took him for a circle mage and left him alone.

            “We need to get back to the Keep.” Aveline panted as she leaned against a wall, holding her sword firmly as she took a deep breath, trying to still herself.

            Fenris cursed in Tevine under his breath as he leaned beside her, spitting blood on the ground. They’d already felled many of the Qunari just getting this far and they weren’t even out of the Warehouse district.

            Anders shook his head, knowing better than to even attempt healing on Fenris. He looked up and around. “They’re invading the city.” Screams were echoing all around them and the docks were already burning.

            Marian took a deep breath as she tried to still herself. “The Arishok has no doubt been planning this for quite some time.” She wiped one of her daggers on her leathers and looked towards Lowtown.

            Anders shook his head. “I have to get back down to Darktown, a lot of those people are completely defenseless.” He didn’t wait for a response, he just took off… only to skid to a stop and turn around, his eyes a pale blue and his voice a deep tenor. “Marian?” Justice called to her, as if he needed… permission?

            Marian had shook her head at Anders but then she heard Justice. She looked at him and gave him a worried look. “It’s alright Justice, let him go. I’ll be fine.”

            Justice wasn’t convinced but he trusted that she knew what she was doing. He turned around and Anders ran off, heading straight for Darktown.

            Fenris shook his head at that. “I hate how he just… flips over like that.” He gave a shudder and immediately regretted it. He tightened his hold on his great sword… the sword Marian had given him, he gave her a firm nod before looking at Aveline with raised brows. “Well? If we’re going then _let’s go_.” The last two words were said by all of them as they took off.

            Marian led them through the warehouse district and into Lowtown. Aveline and Fenris both knew exactly where she was going… and they were completely okay with it. Aveline because it was also the way towards Hightown, Fenris because… well, this was _them_. Marian peeked around a corner and saw him… Varric was in the street, his revolvers in his hand as he shot down a group of ox men. He looked as though he had just ran out of the Hanged Man, he didn’t even have his coat on. His gray thermal already stained with blood… Marian kept low as she came up behind one of the Qunari that was trying to do the same to Varric.

            Varric’s adrenaline was pumping at full force as he hit the street… his city was in utter chaos, the Qunari flooding the streets, killing many, and capturing more. He had been fighting against the flare of panic in his chest over Marian… as desperate as he was to go and find her… he knew the best thing was to just stay here. She’d find him. He had no idea where she was… but she always knew where he could be found. He’d just planted three bolts into an ox man when he heard a fierce battle cry behind him and jerked around, eyes wide to see another Qunari towering over him, sword raised… only for a slender black clad arm to slam down over his horns and another wielding a blade slide it across the ox’s throat, a lethal blow. The Qunari fell in a heap as Marian landed over him, nearly stumbling as she gave an all over body shudder and looked up at him as she took a deep breath and blew some of the hair that had worked loose from her braid out of her face. “’Bout time you got here, I’m already up by twelve, how many you got so far?” He had almost rushed her and pulled her to him… but he didn’t. His eyes said just how much he wanted to though.

            Marian smirked at him. “That made twelve for me. Let’s get, Keep’s the twenty.” She wiped her blade again and kept moving, Varric falling in step beside her. The four of them made for Hightown, playing peek-around-the-corner and felling many Qunari that way, freeing quite a few citizens along the way. They were almost to Keep Square when they ran into a fucking _Saarebas_. It came out of nowhere as Marian trotted around a corner, flinging its arm out and slamming it into her face, sending her ass over teakettle. Varric, Fenris, and Aveline all attacked but were quickly thrown back. Marian’s eyes flashed violently but she didn’t let it loose… she broke into a run, snatching her fallen daggers off the ground as she moved, eyes fixed on her target. She sliced into the collared Qunari’s leg as she ducked past, causing it to howl in anger, even muffled the sound echoed. She didn’t stop, she did a wide turn in the courtyard and climbed up on the wall, using it to push off as she leapt towards him only for the damn thing to send out a shockwave and send her back into the ground, along with everyone else. That one… now that one rung her bell. She landed hard on the stairs… she staggered back to her feet as her vision shook, she saw the creature heading towards her but she couldn’t see straight. She shook her head, desperate for it to clear. She was just about to let loose a stream of fire when out of nowhere the creatures magic was silenced… and a sword sliced through him, killing him. Marian staggered back, falling onto the stairs as she blinked rapidly… and forced herself back onto her feet, though she still swayed. Fear quickly joined the mix as it dumped into her… the _Saarebas_ fell and revealed the one who had felled him. Knight Commander Meredith stood there, wiping her blade and looking at her with a steeled gaze. “Nice to see that not all of Kirkwall’s Hightown residents are useless.”

            Varric had been thrown back repeatedly, but he had put more than a few bolts into the creature, not that it did a damn thing. He ran up to Marian when he saw the Templars standing there, he recognized the Knight Commander immediately, pulling up beside Marian and settling a hand on her shoulder. He looked her over and saw the dazed yet terrified look in her eyes. He started patting his pockets as Fenris and Aveline both joined him. He twisted this way and that before barking at the two of them. “Either of you have an ERP?” He watched as Fenris shook his head with a certain amount of panic and Aveline as she did the same as he but suddenly, one was produced and held out in front of Marian. Varric looked up and immediately leveled his revolver at Carver, aiming it at his face. “You bastard.” He sneered, anger snapping in his eyes as he stepped forward.

            Marian took a strained breath… stilling her magic and hiding it immediately. She was so focused on the Knight Commander she hadn’t even seen him. She glanced down at the vial that was in front of her and then shit got really tense. She looked sharply to her left… and saw Carver standing there… even if he hadn’t of pulled his face mask down, she would have known it was him. She settled her hand on Varric’s arm and pushed it down, disarming him in a matter of speaking. “Not the time.” She took the vial and nodded to her estranged brother, knocking it back and swaying, closing her eyes as she felt it course through her, she flexed her shoulders and rolled them, tilting her head to the side before she focused back on the Knight Commander. “Yeah, well… thanks for the potion.” She tossed the vial on the ground and just… turned around, walking away and peeking around the pillar and into the Merchant’s Quarter.

            Carver heard her before he saw her… when he and three other of his unit plus the Knight Commander rounded the corner, tracking the _saarebas,_ he felt his heart stop in his chest when he saw her on the stairs. She was moments away from releasing her own magic… he was thanking the Maker in his mind that they had gotten there when they did, so she hadn’t revealed herself. He hadn’t expected to be received warmly… but he hadn’t expected such an angry reception from Varric. He widened his eyes as he looked down the aim of the dwarf’s revolving handheld crossbow. But… it was over before it even started, Marian called him off. He internally groaned at her response to the Knight Commander… but he was secretly thankful… she hadn’t acted any differently. But he knew his Commander, she would not take kindly to Marian’s smart mouth.

            Meredith raised her brows as she sheathed her sword. “Excuse me? A higher gratitude should be expressed. I just saved your life.”

            Marian looked over her shoulder with a raised brow of her own. “You just interrupted.” Fenris and Aveline walked passed her and around the corner since it was clear. “Aren’t you supposed to be like… dragging little mage boys and girls out of their homes or something…” She gave the Knight Commander a little gesture with her fingers, shooing her away.

            Varric itched his upper lip to hide his smirk, but his chuckle was heard clearly as he rounded the pillar. “Mare… reign it in a little… you’re going to give me an ulcer here.” He murmured to her.

            Marian looked at him with a smirk of her own and gave a bit of a shrug. The Knight Commander’s shocked look regained her attention though. “Go on..” She turned away but froze at the tone she heard behind her.

            Meredith had to admire the woman for her gumption and the way she diffused the situation quickly. She knew the relation but she had no idea what was the deal with the dwarf, nor did she care. “Where do you intend to go... the Qunari are everywhere… there is nowhere to run.”

            Marian looked at the Knight Commander like she was insane. “Who said we’re running.”

            Aveline poked her head back around the corner, staring at the Knight Commander hard. “Perhaps you did not notice _me_. We’re aiming for the Keep.”

            Meredith blinked at the Guard Captain and then they all vanished around the corner. She looked at her Templars and gave them the signal to follow, watching Ser Hawke carefully as he pulled his face mask back up and did as he was told, but there was a swiftness to his step that the others did not have. Of course they encountered Orsino… ultimately only Marian, Varric, Fenris, and Aveline made it into the Keep. They found the Viscount murdered and the Arishok waiting… as if for Marian herself.

            The Arishok looked down as Hawke walked in. “ _Shenedan_ Hawke… I expected you…”

            Marian gave him a coy smile as she held her hands out, pivoting slightly. “Well, I hate to disappoint.”

            The Arishok shook his head as he hoisted his axe onto his shoulder. “For all your courage… you are no different than these bas… you still do not see.”

            Marian raised her brows as she looked around, stepping over the Viscount’s head. “Oh… I see plenty. For instance…” She looked back at him. “I see a Qunari who stands here terrified that he invaded an entire city for nothing… tell me, Arishok… have you found any trace of your thief?”

            The Arishok swelled with anger at her words, at her gall. He leveled the axe at her. “You… you know who we seek and where that thief has gone. Tell me and I may yet let you live.”

            Marian shrugged. “Haven’t the foggiest.” She stared at him for a long time before she winked at him, knowing that would throw him into a rage.

            The Arishok’s eyes widened with his anger. “You dare… you know not whom you tempt, Hawke! You think yourself skilled enough to bait me?!” He growled at her, stepping forward as he twisted his body, getting ready to strike. “I challenge _you_ , Hawke… you live, we leave… you die… Kirkwall… is _mine_.”

            Varric’s eyes widened as he stepped forward, he’d witnessed the exchange and wished desperately that Marian had curbed her smart mouth, just this once… but before he could intervene in any way… damned if she didn’t answer that damned ox man.

            Marian drew her daggers and gave them a flip in her hands, she’d grown quite skilled with them over the years. She pinned the Arishok with a fierce gaze, her pupils shinning for a split second before she bowed sarcastically and beckoned him with a single finger. “Well, come and get you some, big boy.”

            Varric, Fenris, and Aveline all found themselves cut off by Qunari spears that pinned them to the wall to keep them from interfering. It was the single most terrifying time in Varric’s life up until that moment… he barked out warnings when he could, receiving more than one swift punch to the gut for it. He watched as Marian dove and rolled, ducked and slid, landing slice after slice and angering the Arishok to a level that was quickly growing beyond dangerous. Then he saw something that nearly stopped his heart… the Arishok swung wide with his axe and Marian was only a fraction of a second too slow… the spike at the end of the axe sliced into her abdomen deeply, blood spraying out of her as she pitched forward, only for the Arishok to send a knee into her face, sending her sailing back and damn… she fell hard. He screamed at her to get up, noticing he was not alone in his yelling. When she looked back up, Varric cursed under his breath… he saw the fire in her eyes. He hoped no one else did… but he saw the Arishok take a misstep… he knew the ox saw it. Marian leapt at him, her daggers making contact and searing the creature when they did, causing him to howl with pain and anger. Varric watched as she beat him back… forcing him away until she landed a lethal blow. The Arishok’s axe fell to the ground as he staggered back onto the stairs.

            Marian was panting as she climbed over him, grabbing the straps over his chest and glaring down at him. “My… don’t you look pretty.” She ground out at him.

            The Arishok took hold of her wrist, he felt his breath rattle in his chest and tasted blood in his mouth. In his heart he knew… he had fought well and this… this was an honorable death at the hands of a worthy advisory. This _basverad_ … even if she was a _bas-saarebas_ … had proven to be a formidable opponent. He coughed deeply before he spoke. “We… will… return.”

            Marian shook her head down at him. “No… you won’t.” She jerked her blade over his throat without a second though, shook his hand free of her wrist and stood up, turning away and stepping down the stairs, her hand covering the wound on her abdomen… just as the Knight Commander busted in… her and her Templars looking winded and worn. Marian looked at the many Qunari that stared at her. She gave them a kick of her chin, gesturing towards the door.

            Carver stared at her… he saw her wounded and frowned behind his facial mask. He saw Varric, Fenris, and Aveline freed and standing nearby as the Qunari just… left. Meredith… wasn’t pleased with what she saw… she had no choice but to name this woman Champion of Kirkwall. The people demanded it. But Meredith was no fool… she knew this woman was a mage, and now… she had a title that protected her. And unless she stepped out of line… she was untouchable.

            Marian shied away from the praise… her eyes found Varric in the crowd and he saw the way she wanted to get the hell out of there. Carver worked through the crowd as she made her way out… he stood by the door, looking down at her when she walked by… pausing to glance up at him. He palmed a ERP in her hand as she passed… he made it a point to stop by the Estate soon. He needed to talk to her… about Mother. Her letter… had been… he knew she was torn up. He knew she was still blaming herself.

            Later that night… Varric cradled her in the tub as she rested against him. Her estate was untouched, Hightown was _mostly_ untouched… Kable was laid out on the bathroom floor and Justice sat just outside, leaning against the wall… having already healed her. Varric was washing her hair as he smirked at Justice’s comment of _But what does a Champion of a City do?_ “It’s just a title, Justice.”

            Justice was confused. “But… what does a Champion _do_? Is it… is she a member of the Guard now? Is she the city’s defender?”

            Marian gave a bit of a laugh.”It’s like a reward… an honor or something. People will listen to me when I talk… which is scary when you think about it.”

            Justice nodded, he had to agree with that. “So… you are now the city’s… advisor?”

            Varric poured water over her hair as he washed it free of suds. “Kind of.” He ran his hands over her hair, noticing how long it was getting… she would cut it again soon… much to his ire. He liked it when it was this long. “Justice?” He asked suddenly.

            Justice glanced towards the door to his right. “Yes, Varric?”

            Varric was wondering… “Why are you here?”

            Justice leaned his head against the wall again. “I am worried over Anders. He is… he has been searching for an amulet that is designed to… bind a spirit. I believe he is thinking of doing something that he does not wish for me to know about… and he is going to take steps to ensure that I do not interfere.” He leaned out and peered around the corner, looking at them. “He has grown so angry.”

            Marian glanced over her shoulder at Varric with the words that she heard and then to Justice when he poked his head around the corner. “Remember that you are stronger than he is… you are a spirit of Justice. If he worries you too much, you can overthrow him.”

            Varric nodded in agreement. “And we’re with you, man.” He put his fist to his chest and held up two fingers to the spirit… thinking for a moment on how odd his life had become. He never thought that he’d ever be sitting in a tub… with a _human_ … let alone a mage that he loved more than anything in this world… trying to reassure a spirit… a spirit that he called friend… that was inhabiting the body of _another_ mage… a mage that he didn’t particularly care for. It was… quite bizarre.

            Justice nodded to the two of them before the features of this face fell slightly for the seriousness he felt. “You both know… that I feel love towards the both of you… above all others.”

            Marian smiled softly to him. “We care deeply for you as well, Justice.”

            Varric looked at the spirit quietly and nodded to him, but he didn’t speak. He suspected… that he didn’t have to.

            Justice nodded to the two of them before he got up… and Varric was suspecting correctly. He felt their fondness for him. He hoisted this body up and returned to Darktown before he surrendered control back to Anders.

            Varric shook his head once the spirit left, sighing contently as Marian settled against him once he leaned back against the rim of the tub. He ran his fingers down her arms lazily. “I was worried for you today…”

            Marian took a deep breath as she leaned against him. She looked up at his words and gave a subtle nod. “I know.” She ran her hands down his shins. “I’m sorry.”

            Varric smirked down at her. “Hey…” He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “I know who I love… you don’t have to be sorry.”


	25. Chapter 25

Over the next few months, plenty of things changed. One thing in particular was kept under wraps so much that only five people in the entire world knew about it.

            Justice stood there… the wind whipping this body’s hair as he looked on… tears in this one’s eyes. Fenris beside him… the look on his face was… well, he was blinking a lot. Justice had made sure to change into Anders’ finest robes. They stood on the very edge of the Wounded Coast… the cliff face falling away on both sides as the sea crashed far below.

            Varric was… mesmerized. He wore his father’s coat… the heavy Orzammar leather still conditioned after all these years. He made sure he wore his nicest jeans… his boots were freshly combed… and his hair was pulled back as neat as he could get it. He remembered Fenris helping him with his tie… it was the first time he had ever worn one and his hands had been shaking so badly, he couldn’t have done it even if he knew how. He had felt… awkward and silly as he stood there with Fenris and Justice. Even Fenris had made sure his clothes were clean and without any stains or tears, which was a big challenge. But then Aveline walked around the bend, she was wearing a pair of fitted suit pants and a rather elegant blouse… her hair was down for once. And then… Varric’s breath left him. Marian was there… his chin trembled the closer she got. Her hair was swept back in small braids… with tiny flowers in them. _She has flowers in her hair… Maker’s breath.._ Her hands held up the skirt of her dress… it was a gentle ivory… slender straps and a deep v over her chest… falling around her hips and flaring out… a lace layer over it all… over her shoulders a lace cape that the wind caught for that brief moment. He had never… seen anything… so beautiful. He swallowed roughly as he ran his hand over his mouth, checking for the hundredth time that his face was still smooth… he had actually shaved that morning. He saw the delicate necklace she always wore… but that was the only jewelry she had on… she wore no shoes… as was the custom of her homeland… and beside her… Kable. The mabari stood proud as he escorted her. A true dog lord… Marian was… he didn’t have a word for how lovely she was. He’d never forget how she looked.

            Fenris glanced over at Varric and hid his smile well… the dwarf was completely enthralled… damned if he didn’t have tears in his eyes. Fenris looked back at Marian and gave her a gentle bow of his head as she drew near, flicking his gaze to Aveline and smirking at how she was wiping her eyes.

            It had been a bitter sweet moment when Marian stepped into her Mother’s wedding dress, she remembered the day she found it in Gamlen’s house, about a month after they had gotten to Kirkwall… she couldn’t believe her Mother had actually grabbed it before they left Lothering. Varric had been asking her for this for over a year now… and she’d finally agreed. But it didn’t stop her nerves from overwhelming her the entire time she had gotten ready. Aveline helped… and Kable always helped… but when she saw him standing there, all of that just… disappeared. He looked so… nervous yet… handsome. Expecting… waiting. She glanced down bashfully as she walked to him, her hands holding her skirt up slightly so she didn’t tread on it, giving him a gentle smile when she joined him, reaching up and running her hand down his cheek, her brows perking up slightly at the smoothness. “Hey handsome…” She whispered low to him.

            Varric leaned into the touch, covering her hand and returning her small smile. “Beautiful…” He turned his face and kissed her palm.

            Justice felt himself swell with pride as he witnessed the two… their bond had never been brighter than in that moment. He cleared this throat before his deep tenor came forth. “Varric Tethras… are you ready to swear yourself to this woman?”

            Varric took hold of her hands and nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes.”

            Justice nodded. “Marian Hawke… are you ready to swear yourself to this dwarf?”

            Marian gave his hands a gentle squeeze before she spoke. “Yes.”

            Justice bowed this head slightly. “Then swear before this world… your friends… and each other.” Justice never invoked their Maker… or Andraste… for he knew of neither, he had never met them.

            Varric reached into his pocket and fished out the ring he had commissioned in secret… it was a slender band made of Dragon Bone… he smiled to her when she raised a brow at him. He took her right hand and gave her a sly look as he slid it on her ring finger. “I swear… unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste… to love this woman… for the rest of my days.”

            Marian’s hand shook slightly as he slid the ring on… they had agreed to use their right hands… since their relationship was still secret. She blinked rapidly as a tear slid down her cheek with his words… she’d never thought she’d be here… never in a million years. She wiped at her face before turning around and holding her hand out to Aveline who slipped a ring into it. She turned back to Varric and took a stilling breath so she could speak. She prepared his right hand and settled the thick gold ring with the ancient signet set onto it. Varric glanced down at it and sent a shocked look back up at her… she only gave a knowing smile before she spoke. “I swear… unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste… to love this dwarf… for the rest of my days.”

            Justice smiled with this face. “Here in this place, surrounded by your friends… and in the presence of a Spirit of the fade… you have sworn to one another the most sacred of oaths. There is nothing more powerful in the entire world or the fade than love. Never lose sight of what the two of you feel right now… for your bond is as strong as it has ever been.” He looked at Varric before winking with this face. “Now kiss your wife, Tethras!”

            Varric barked out a laugh, everyone else joining in as Varric took hold of her and swept her into a deep dip over his knee and laid one on her as she threw her arms around his neck. It was the single most joyful moment of his life up until that point. And Marian felt the same. He brought her back up and grinned at her before looking down at his hand. “Where… where did you find it?”

            Marian took a steadying breath before giving a bit of a shrug. “I have my ways.” She winked at him and smiled as she laced her right hand with his, setting her magic off and warming them so that the rings glowed… Varric watched as she tempered his family’s ancient signet ring… hardening the gold to a degree that it… could withstand her magic.  


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Waves flags and walks around parade style* Smut in this chapter!!! Smut in this chapter!!!

The city finally recovered from the Qunari attack. Varric poured his time and quite a bit of his money into the recovery efforts. The fact that Marian contributed just as much as he did… hit him square in the chest. This wasn’t her city… she wasn’t from here… and he knew that she had no problem walking away from these brown streets… but she cared because it mattered to him. He was still getting used to the whole what’s mine is yours thing.

            Marian still couldn’t get over the way everyone greeted her. It was the oddest thing. Carver had been by the estate a few times and they’d talked… it wasn’t comfortable and it wasn’t friendly… but it was civil. That was all she could tolerate… his armor set her nerves off every time she saw him. Carver didn’t ask… but he noticed the ring on her hand… he wondered where she had gotten it. Dragon Bone was easily recognizable and highly valuable… he knew she didn’t have _that_ much coin… so it must have been a gift. But from whom? He had no idea but he didn’t question.

            More than once, Marian found herself playing referee between the Knight Commander and the First Enchanter. One incident in Gallows Square was particularly heated… Orsino calling her out as she walked by, on her way to the chantry to speak with the Grand Cleric.

            “Champion! Perhaps you can bring reason to this blasted argument!” Orsino beckoned as he saw the Champion walking through the Square, surely the people would listen to her. He knew she was a mage, just as Meredith did… and she had known mage associates, so surely she would be sympathetic to her own kind.

            Marian pulled up with a silent groan and pivoted, changing direction and aiming for them. Apparently Orsino had been, once again, trying to gain support against Meredith for wrongly ascending to the Viscount’s seat and using her power to control the Circle Mages to such a degree that they were growing… increasingly resistant.

            Meredith looked sharply at Marian and back at Orsino, having already intervened in Orsino’s little demonstration. “Do not call upon the Champion to hide behind Orsinio, she has no roll in this.”

            Marian raised her brows as she joined the group, looking between the two. “Oh, I don’t know… it appears I am often being called to referee the two of you since you both insist upon arguing in the streets like a married couple who has either been together too long or not long enough.”

            Both Meredith and Orsino glared at her, neither appreciating her analogy. Meredith however, was the one to speak. “This is not an argument, it is never an argument. It is nothing more than the First Enchanter attempting to incite treason.”

            Marian raised a brow at the Knight Commander. “Treason? Oh… I was unaware that _you_ were the Viscount, Meredith.”

            Orsino nodded firmly in agreement. “Exactly. You have no authority to do the things you  have been doing lately, Meredith. You go too far.”

            Meredith narrowed her eyes on the both of them. “I have the authority to keep order and protect the innocent from all dangers, blood magic and then some.”

            Orsino gestured between them. “ _Within the Chantry and regarding Mages only_. You do not have the authority to police the entire city!”

            Marian looked up and blinked rapidly, shaking her head much the same way. “May the Maker help us all…” She looked back at them. “Do the two of you need a time out? Seriously… you both are acting like insufferable children, going back and forth about the same thing over and over but not getting anywhere.” She looked pointedly at Meredith. “Knight Commander, you do well at your job… don’t step outside that roll—“ Marian found herself interrupted.

            Meredith had just about enough of the Champion’s lip, she grew too comfortable in her title for her liking. “Someone must protect the city so why should I not step outside of it?!”

            Marian did an overly exaggerated dip of her knees, showing her frustration. “Because you’re pissing people off!” She practically heard Orsino’s smirk, she jabbed a finger at him. “And you’re so wrapped up in protests circle boy, you can’t see that you’re creating tensions and unrest in a city that is still _very_ tense and unrested!”

            Orsino’s spine stiffened as he became the focus of the Champion’s smart mouth. But Meredith spoke again. “I don’t care if people’s delicate sensibilities get offended… I cannot allow any of this to continue.”

            Marian gave her a droll look. “Come on, Meredith… your measures have gotten a little out of hand lately… even you must see that.”

            Meredith raised her brows at that. “And _you_ could do better? How well did you guard your own Mother? She died at the hands of a blood mage and yet you stand here and chastise me for the measures I have taken to root out that very threat from this city.”

            The crowd audibly gasped as Marian blinked at the Knight Commander. She felt the tremble on the inside but she silenced it quickly… she had made peace with what happened… and she was not about to allow this bitch to bait her, like she knew she was doing. “Well…” She scoffed highly. “See if you get a birthday card this year.” She gave the woman the slightest perk of a single brow, that one gesture screaming volumes… _oh, I know what you’re doing._

            Orsino however, spoke with anger. “ _Blood magic_. All you see is blood magic! Oh no! It’s rained on Sunday, must be the work of a blood mage!” He threw his hands up dramatically.

            Meredith scoffed at the man. “Do not mock me, Mage.”

            Marian pinched at the brow of her nose. “Alright!” She barked at them, both of them actually jumping a bit and looking at her as if she had just slapped them. “Enough! That is it!” She pointed at the ground between them. “Go at it you two… go on… wrassle.” She said the last word with no amount of sass spared. “Because that seems to be the only way for you two to resolve this.” She folded her arms over her chest with an expecting look, nodding at them and flicking her eyes back down to where she pointed. “Well?”

            Orsino just blinked at her but Meredith shook her head. “You are being ridiculous.” She sneered the last word.

            Marian gave her a _look_. “Thank you! Now.. you know what I’ve been thinking this whole time.”

            Luckily, the crowd parted and Grand Cleric Elthina appeared. She diffused the situation quickly… sending both Meredith and Orsino back to their respective quarters. She turned back to Marian and gave her a gentle look. “Thank you, Champion… as usual, your humorous intervention has undercut the serious implications their argument could have had on the crowd.”

            Marian gave her a slight bow. “I aim to please, Elthina.” She offered the Grand Cleric her arm, the aging woman taking it easily. Truth be told, and many did not know this, Marian had grown close to Elthina, having met her shortly after arriving in Kirkwall and seeking her counsel many times.

            Elthina gave the woman a fond yet disapproving look. “You should not willingly step in the flames, dear girl. I fear what the two of them may do one day… and I fear that you will be standing right in the crossfire when the inevitable occurs.”

            Marian strolled with her, aiming for the Chantry. “Oh… I’m sure I’d be in the center of it no matter what I did. I’m just lucky like that.”

            Elthina shook her head at her. “Child… you should not be so reckless with your life. You have many who would mourn you. Including… your brother.” She cut her eyes up and over at her.

            Marian made a face and looked away. “Eh… why do you always bring him up?”

            Elthina hid her knowing smile well. “Because he is your kin… your family. It is important that the two of you settle your differences. None of us are promised tomorrow, Marian…” She stilled when they reached the top of the stairs and faced her. “At any moment, the Maker could call us to his side. Do not leave this world with any regrets… and do not leave anyone behind with any doubts.”

            Marian looked down at Elthina’s words… damn this woman and her wisdom. But she nodded. “Elthina… I was coming to talk to you…” She frowned slightly. “A friend of mine has told me something… it might be nothing but I wanted to pass it on.”

            Elthina looked up at her openly. “Yes?”

            Marian frowned slightly, remembering Justice’s vague warning. _Anders is getting worse, Marian… he won’t allow me to know anything about what he’s planning but I think it has something to do with the Chantry._ “I think something might happen to the Chantry… I don’t know what but… perhaps you could… I don’t know, put everyone on high alert or something?”

            Elthina looked perplexed by the vague warning but she nodded anyway, Marian would not say something if she did not think it important enough to speak out about. “I will inform the Templars.” She bid the woman farewell and disappeared into the Chantry.

            About a week later, Fenris’ past upchucked all over the Hanged Man. Hawke… Aveline… and Varric, each one of them backed him up as he faced his demons… and once it was done… Danarius was dead… and Fenris was finally free. He knew… he could never truly repay them. It appeared that it was the week for homecomings though… Varric got a tip… that Bartrand had returned to Kirkwall.

            Varric was in a realm of rage as he blew through Bartrand’s mansion… the last time he had been here… he’d felt the pull of a piece of the idol, Marian quickly putting an end to it. But here he was, witnessing his brother’s insanity. Marian, Fenris… and Aveline were all with him. Varric wished… he wished Justice was there… but when they went to talk to him, they had found only Anders… Justice did not come forward even as Varric mentioned his brother’s name. That had left both Marian and Varric worried… had Anders found a way to silence Justice? They didn’t know what was going on with him. But the past two weeks had been insane, at best. Between Merrill’s Keeper taking the fall for her and Fenris’ ex-master trying to claim him, the mage hell spiral… it was just too much. When Varric finally found Bartrand… he was certifiable. He didn’t even seem to remember locking them down there to die. It didn’t stop him from jerking him by the collar and screaming at him, demanding to know why he did it. Nor did it stop him from throwing him onto the floor and leveling his revolvers into his face… even as he looked into his brother’s clouded eyes. He would have pulled the triggers too… that bastard not only left _him_ down there, that was bad enough… but he’d also trapped Marian down there. And that had sent Varric into a whole different kind of pissed off. But then… Marian’s hand was on his forearm and she was standing beside him, shaking her head at him with a frown.

            “Varric… no.” Marian saw the anger in his face… and the hurt. She knew that betrayal… but she knew this wouldn’t help him.

            Varric shook his head at her, feeling Fenris and Aveline at his back as he rolled his lip. “Marian… he left us down there to fucking die…”

            Marian nodded. “I know he did… and he deserves death… but you are not the one to decide that for him.” She knew it would kill a part of him if he did.

            Varric felt his hands start to shake as he saw his brother, there on his knees… his hands pawing at Marian’s coat as he mumbled pleas for aid in finding the idol. He let his arms fall all of a sudden and sneered at him… he heard the relieved sighs behind him but he shook his head and gave a stepping start to the fierce kick that went right to his brother’s jaw, knocking the eldest Tethras out. Varric spit down on the floor and turned away, jerking his coat up as he pushed past Fenris and Aveline.

            Marian closed her eyes with a slight groan before looking down at Bartrand and back up at Aveline. “Well… he didn’t kill him?” She looked down at the man again and couldn’t help but feel pity. “Aveline… could you have the guard take him to the holding cells… I’ll send someone for him.” Marian left Aveline and Fenris behind as she stepped outside, finding Varric sitting on the stairs. She sat down beside him and put her arm over his knee, keeping her gaze straight ahead. “He’ll be in the holding cells at the Guard Station… when you’re ready to deal with him, just let me know and I’ll have people collect him.”

            Varric was… beyond rattled. He had thought for years about what he’d do if he ever saw Bartrand again. It had always been _kill the fucker_. But then when it came down to it… he looked over at Marian and ignored the tear that slipped down his cheek. “Thank you for stopping me.” He knew that if he’d pulled those damn triggers… it would have fucked him up something fierce.

            Marian turned her eyes on him and gave him a gentle look. “Any time.” No sooner had she spoke the words did she find herself ensnared in a fierce embrace and a kiss to match. She made a surprised sound behind it but her arms went around him as he shifted and rolled, covering her right there on the freaking front stairs of the Hightown Estate, hidden in the shadows with nothing but the sounds of the night around them. She broke the kiss and covered his mouth, creating a barrier, giving him a wide eyed look. “Not _here_ , Maker’s breath, Varric…” She felt him nipping at her palm… she knew he was seeking comfort from her.

            Varric’s insides were all twisted up on him, and it was only getting worse the more he thought about it. The look in her eyes… it undid him and he damn near tackled her. If she had allowed it… he was pretty damn sure he would have taken her right then and there. He knew, just as she, that he was seeking comfort from her… wanting her to sooth him in the way that only she could. Her whispered words had him nodding to her… though it didn’t stop him from slipping a hand between them and applying pressure between her legs, he felt her hand go around his wrist but he saw the arousal in her eyes. He easily found the right spot and knew it when she involuntarily arched her back… damned if it wasn’t doing it for him. He suddenly found himself being pushed away and she was crawling out from under him.

            Marian was in disbelief as her body screamed for his touch… she was already damn near panting and had to get the hell out from under him right quick and in a hurry. “Varric.” She hissed at him with a shake of her head. “Insufferable.” She muttered as she went down the stairs, straightening her coat. It didn’t take long before she felt him behind her… he didn’t touch her but she was hyperaware of his presence. She glanced over her shoulder and damned if she didn’t feel a shiver go down her spine for the look in his eyes. She quickened her pace as she went around the corner and aimed for her door, unlocking it and stepping inside, she didn’t even get a chance to grab her keys out of the lock.

            Varric felt his body drumming with need. He knew it was probably not the healthiest response to distress… but he knew that she could make it all go away. When he was with her… it vanished, _everything_ went away. He adjusted himself before he stood up off the stairs and folded his coat shut, following her. He knew her place was just around the corner… his mind was already saturated with what he was going to do to her the moment they got there. Luckily, Bodhan, Sandal, and Orana would already be asleep. He wiped at his mouth with a knuckle when she looked over her shoulder at him… he was pretty sure he looked like he was hunting her and damned if he wasn’t. He felt each step cause his jeans to scrape against his erection, sending a chill through his body. He stood there as she unlocked the door, his chest rising and falling as his breath was already starting to saw in and out of him… the door opened and he all but pushed her inside, taking the keys out of the lock himself and kicking the door shut. He was instantly on her, his lips on her neck as he worked her coat off of her… he felt her hands in his hair, felt it come loose from its tie and fall free. He heard her kick the lock over behind him as he started moving her away from the door and over to the side… he shucked his coat as he claimed her lips. He hadn’t been this jacked up in a long time… he hadn’t been this desperate in a long time… everything about it was needy. She pulled at his shirt and he broke the kiss long enough to pull it off and let it fall to the floor, his hands on her breasts, lifting them as he latched onto her neck just as he pinned her into the corner. Her nails scored his back and he felt his length jerk and weep, hard and pained… he reached for her belt and jerked it free, her pants were no match as they met the same fate… he felt her shifting and heard her boots landing haphazardly nearby. _Thank the Maker for pull on boots_ he thought in his head as he reached for her hip, feeling her skin had him growl into her neck as he tore at her underwear, jerking them down as he dipped just enough to get them falling, leaving her to do the rest as he reclaimed her lips, falling into a demanding kiss. Her hands were in his hair, pulling him to her as he reached between them, his hand seeking her out… his hips jerked when he slid his fingers against her, finding her swollen and wet, hearing her moan beneath the kiss. He had no patience tonight, no interest in toying with her… the snaps of his belt popped in the air around them and he pulled the buttons of his jeans free, not even bothering to pull them down… he pitched his shoulder up as he reached in and took hold of his pained length, he felt her lift slightly and knew she had to be using the bench nearby… he felt the moisture leaking out the end of himself, damn… he was so close already… desperate for her, the entire time was relative but it had only been a few minutes since they’d opened the front door. He set himself to her heat with a shudder, his body tensing as he found her center… his other hand grabbed her hip roughly and he drove himself up into her in a single fluid move. Both of them breaking the kiss… she threw her head back as far as she could, letting loose a beautiful moan for him as he shook and pulled her leg up around his waist… his other hand reached up and settled on the stone wall above her… he didn’t even wait as he usually would, for her body to relax around him… to recover from the initial… stretch… he started moving immediately. Not since the first time had they been this… desperate for each other. Not to say that their sex life wasn’t passionate… it just wasn’t this… intense with need. Nor had it ever been this out in the open at the Estate… that alone spoke volumes to how badly he wanted her. Her… _his love_ … he thrust himself up into her as she coated him, his hand on the wall forming a fist as he moved, the ringing of his belt buckle adding to the sound of their heavy breathing, her quiet moans and his deep chested affirmations each time he withdrew from her and drove himself back in. _His wife_ … he felt her body gripping him tightly as he spread his knees, settling them to the wall and digging into it as he slammed into her… he felt it the moment before her release crashed into her, he clapped a hand over her mouth as he gripped her thigh tightly right before she screamed, her body shuddering around him as she doused him, he felt her weep and drip down him… he lifted her leg further as he continued to move, his rhythm changing as he felt her body pulsing around him, pulling him in further, he opened his mouth in shock as his release slammed into him without any warning… joining hers. His seed shot up into her in a rhythm that mimicked her body’s, he released her leg and slammed the side of his fist onto the stone wall, his forearm sliding along it as his body shook all over, his chin nearly touching his chest as he pinned her in the corner, he felt another wave of pleasure roll through her as she undiluted upon him again before the last orgasm even ended. The next moment, he was clawing at the wall with both of his hands, not knowing what else to do with himself. Marian held onto him as she trembled, twisting and squirming as she moaned in a way he’d never heard from her before. He felt his sack jerking beneath him as he continued to come, he couldn’t think or move… he was pretty sure he was growling low curses in _dwarva_ but damned if he could remember them a moment after he said them. When it was finally over… he pulled back, wrapping his arms around her and supporting her as she went wonton against him, loose and sated. He looked down at her with hooded eyes and returned her gentle smile… neither had felt anything like that before… he was just about to kiss her when he jerked and turned slightly. “What the fuck!?”

            Marian was finally feeling as though she was back in her own body again… and then he jerked around and she looked around him, she had to laugh as Kable stood behind him, sniffing at his half bare rear. “Kable, stop it.”

            Varric swung his arm behind him, batting the dog away. “Get the.. what the fuck, Kable?!”

            “Oh my… I am so… so sorry, Madam… I did not realize you were… I am so sorry…” Bodhan stood in the doorway to the foyer holding Kable’s leash with wide eyes… getting a very… dreaded… eyeful of Master Tethras’ bare backside and… Madam Hawke… in a rather… intimate… joining. He… he couldn’t look away… he was _that_ shocked.

            Both of them jumped and Varric withdrew from her, jerking his jeans up and quickly buttoning them, turning around and hiding Marian’s lower body with his. “What the?! Bodhan! Avert your eyes, man!”

            Marian was _mortified_. She was quickly trying to bend over and pick up her own jeans but Varric was trying to cover her as well… it was… her face was bright red as she started tugging at his jeans, trying to make them wider than they truly were.

            Bodhan slapped his hand over his eyes and threw a hand out as he patted the wall and started moving to the side. “I am so… so sorry… Master Tethras… I… Kable needed to go out… I am so sorry…” Bodhan had _never_ walked in on _anyone_ in all his long years… and he never wanted to either. He was just as if not more mortified than Marian. “Though…” He was still blind as he shuffled towards the door. “I feel the need to tell the both of you that… we… we all know.” He stumbled over something (Marian’s coat) and into the door. He slapped at the door and felt the knob. “So um… the next time… you two would like… um… to have the house to yourselves… feel free… to… just simply… let us know… and… yeah.” He jerked the knob and quickly stepped out, Kable trotting out behind him, the door snapping shut after them.

            Varric just stood there… frozen and… stunned. Once the dwarf was gone he looked over his shoulder at Marian, blinking rapidly. “Just… let them know… he says.”

            Marian couldn’t help it… she busted out laughing. “We suck at keeping this a secret, you know?”

            Varric couldn’t help but join her in the laughter… stepping away so she could pull her jeans on. He picked up his clothes and nodded. “Apparently we do… so far, and most found out without us even knowing… Fenris, Aveline, and your entire household staff all _knew_ we were together before we knew that _they_ knew.”

            Marian gathered up her boots and coat and shook her head at the both of them, herself and him. “Well… that’s not a bad record really… not for four years.”

            Varric smiled at her… warming at that thought. “Four… insanely wonderful years.” He tossed her a wink before following her up to bed… where they talked and she made him deal with the whole Bartrand thing properly. He hated it… but he did it.


	27. Chapter 27

Two months later, something happened that changed the whole of Thedas. Marian stood there with her hands in her hair as she looked on helplessly, pieces of the Chantry still falling from the sky. Sebastian on his knees screaming to the Maker, Varric just… stared. And Anders… that son of a bitch… just stood there, he didn’t even look.

            Marian turned on him a second later and dove for him, taking him by the collar and shaking him violently. “What the hell did you just do?! What did you do!!!” Her voice cutting out for the anger she felt.

            Anders didn’t try to get loose, he accepted her wrath. He was ready to be the martyr to kick start the rebellion. “I removed any chance of compromise. Now everyone will have to pick a side.”

            Marian gave a pained expression and threw him away from her, turning away and settling her hands on her hips as she looked at the stone ground beneath her.

            The Knight Commander spoke up. “The Grand Cleric… murdered… by a Mage.” She looked at Orsino pointedly. “I hereby invoke the right of annulment! The circle will be cleansed and _every_ mage in Kirkwall is hereby sentenced to death.” She looked pointedly at Marian at the last. Finally… she would get that insufferable smartass Champion. Her title couldn’t save her now.

            Orsino gawked at her. “You cannot be serious, Meredith, the one responsible stands right here! You cannot blame the Circle for this, we had nothing to do with it!”

            Marian looked up as the entire crowd that had gathered reacted. Some gasped…. But a great deal of them cried out in agreement. But it wasn’t she who challenged Meredith in that moment… no… a familiar voice rose from behind the Knight Commander.

            Carver was still reeling from the explosion… but the Knight Commander’s words rang through him. He shook his head as he stepped forward, he had to speak out. “No, Knight Commander… this is wrong.” He jerked his face mask down as he came up on her side. “The one responsible is right there, he should be executed. The other mages are innocent.”

            Meredith sneered at Ser Hawke. “You only say such to protect thine Sister.” She struck him across the face with the back of her grieved hand and took hold of his collar before throwing him towards Marian roughly. “Insubordination carries the same penalty!”

            Marian’s eyes flared as she witnessed the strike, registering that Meredith hit far harder than she should have been able to… Carver’s head snapping to the side and then Marian barely caught hold of him. She looked back at Meredith as she took a ragged breath, her pupils shinning.

            Meredith gave Marian a wicked smile. “That’s right, _Champion_ … show them all what you _really_ are.” When Marian didn’t immediately respond, Meredith drew her sword and raised it high. “Templars… form up!” The men and women behind her all stepped up without question, drawing their swords. Meredith aimed the sword at Carver yet held Marian’s eye. “The traitor dies first!” _This will get her to reveal herself!_

            And damned if it did. Marian’s eyes widened as anger snapped in them. As the wall of Templars started stepping towards them, Marian walked out from her crew… her brother… and that fucker Orsino. She looked at Meredith as she reached beneath her cloak and unclipped her staff. She heard a call of _no_ behind her but she ignored it. “Alright, Meredith… you want to see what I _really_ am?” She extended the staff and heard the crowd gasp audibly. The Templars around Meredith all went tense as Meredith’s eyes flared with corrupt pleasure at finally getting Marian to reveal herself. “You asked for it…. Now burn, you bitch.” She ground out the last… Meredith’s expression went from twisted joy to panic in a blink of an eye as she realized that she had made a grave mistake. Marian stomped her foot on the ground, the staff driving into the stone as a wall of flames shot up behind her, rising into the air a good twenty feet, creating a protective wall between the Templars, Herself… and everyone she wished to protect. Marian raised a hand, pitching it back and quickly held a rolling ball of fire. _Catch…_ she thought sarcastically as she pitched it straight at Meredith.

            Meredith felt her pulse quicken and the ripple of panic that flared out through the Templars around her. She would have _never_ thought the Champion was a pyromancer… she showed such control over her magic… and pyromancers were notorious for _losing_ control. They also wielded a magic far more dangerous than any other. They were resistant to the effects of all but the most powerful Templars… the only effective magical weapon against them… was another mage! Meredith heard the cries of alarm around her, the Templars jerking and ducking as the fire wall shot out of the ground… a clearer symbol could not have been made. She would protect those she loved… damn the consequences. It would be hard to paint her as an evil mage in the eyes of the people now… Meredith’s plan… had backfired. She cursed in her mind a second before she was forced to defend herself.

            Marian drove the Templars back… she was terrified the entire time… but… well, fuck it. She was done hiding. And that bitch dared to hurt Carver? Oh _hell_ no. The Templars retreated and Meredith with them… she silenced her magic and turned around. Of all her companions… Sebastian was the only one who didn’t know that she was a mage. The way he was looking at her… she chose to ignore him. Varric was the one who was looking at her the hardest though.

            Varric felt his anger… and his concern… fueled all by his love as he looked hard at her. His voice suddenly boomed out of him. “God Dammit, Marian!” He ran a rough hand down his face before shaking his head and looking at his boots before he looked at her again. “You just… couldn’t…” He found himself quickly interrupted.

            Marian shook her head at him in return. “Oh Varric… come on.” She threw her hand out. “This is already so screwed up and that bitch… she got me fucked up if she thinks she can threaten my family and get away with it.” She pointed a finger at Sebastian when she saw his mouth open out of the corner of her eye. “And you just need to be quiet.”

            Sebastian jerked his head back as if he’d been slapped. What the hell did he do? He crossed his arms over his chest and stood there with a major attitude. Fine, he’d be quiet.

            Aveline was shaking her head as she looked around. “What… what do we do now?”

            Marian looked at her pointedly. “You get your Guardsmen and get these people to safety, get them the hell off the streets because you bet your ass that she’s got her Templars out there right now… murdering innocent people. Get them out of the crossfire.”

            Aveline gave a firm nod and ran off to do just that. Merrill drifted near Fenris and looked to him with a surprised yet thankful expression when she felt his arm on her shoulders. Both were worried… Varric looked down at Anders as he sat on a nearby crate. But Orsino spoke up.

            “I have to get to the circle… join me there when you can… I fear what Meredith will do if she gets inside.” He looked at the mage and sneered. “I’ll leave this… _thing_ … to you.”

            Marian gave a distracted nod to Orsino as he spoke… and then he was gone. They all drew closer as she walked up to Anders. She looked down at him and shook her head.

            Anders looked at the ground in front of him. “There isn’t anything you can say—“ He closed his mouth quickly when he found himself interrupted.

            “I want to talk to Justice.” Marian barked at him.

            Anders shook his head. “Justice can’t talk right now.”

            Marian took hold of his collar and jerked him up. “What the hell did you do to him? I know he wouldn’t have allowed this.”

            Anders sneered in her face. “I know about you two… you and Varric… and Justice. The three of you, thick as thieves. You think I wouldn’t notice the missing time? He had grown soft. A traitor to the cause. I made sure he couldn’t interfere.”

            Varric’s face twisted with anger as he came up behind Anders and took hold of his arms, a strength he knew the mage couldn’t get out of. “Carver, nullify this asshole.”

            Carver had been quiet… he was humbled by Marian’s defense of him… and then… it was as if he had never left. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Anders had done something to Justice… nor that Justice, Marian, and Varric had apparently become friends of some sort. “Gladly.” He ground out as he walked over and… flexed… his Templar abilities targeting Anders and silencing his magic immediately.

            Anders squirmed at first but then went still as he felt the numbing effect. “Son of a bitch.” He felt a sharp punch across his jaw.

            Carver glared at him, adjusting his shield. “That’s our Mother you’re talking about, asshole.” He looked at Marian and gave a nod.

            Marian jerked Ander’s collar open as his eyes went wide. She reached in and jerked the amulet out. “You bastard…” She pinned him with a vicious look. “You bound him… you _knew_ he’d stop you!” She saw the chain and knew it was silverite… like hers, it was extremely strong, too strong to break. She started turning it around, looking for the clasp.

            Ander’s eyes flared as she jerked his collar open. _She knew! She knew about the amulet!_ Then he just glared at her… smirking when she started looking for a way to remove it. “There’s no clasp… it’s bound onto me.” He gave her a smug look.

            Marian shook with her anger. She took hold of the amulet and part of the chain, gripping it tightly. “Good thing I’m a walking smelter then…” She saw the panic flare in his eyes as she heated her hand to an insane level… the silverite dripping between her fingers and the chain falling away. Ander’s screamed out before his eyes immediately flashed, pale blue shining brightly as Justice gasped. 

            Justice looked around with nothing but panic, he saw Marian and tried to reach for her but couldn’t, he looked over his shoulder and saw Varric. “Varric! Marian! He is going to blow up the Chantry! We have to stop him!” His deep tenor boomed out of this body as he spoke rapidly. “He has gone insane, he desires vengeance and murder, not Justice! I cannot allow it! You must help me stop him!”

            Sebastian jerked when he witnessed this… “Blessed Andraste…” He looked to Merrill and Fenris… none appeared to be shocked. They all knew this… demon… was inside this man. But… the words did not make sense.

            Marian frowned deeply as she set her hands to his cheeks. “Justice… he already did.” She let out a shaky breath.

            Justice blinked with this body and felt the arms released… he looked around and then stood up so quick, the crate toppled over. He saw the smoldering remains above them… at first this body’s hands went to the head but then… he set them to his sides as he stood there. He felt his purpose growing… his power shining through the skin of this body. He felt the earth beneath his feet start to tremble as he did. He spoke strained… his voice pulling power from the fade. “I am Justice.” He shook as he turned slowly and looked at them all. “I will not be denied my purpose… I must be appeased.”

            Sebastian’s eyes widened as he witnessed this… this… spirit. This was… this was Justice? He… felt the spirit look right into him. He felt his own need for justice grow tenfold and nearly bring him to his knees. There could be no doubt. This creature had no part in what the mage had done. “Anders did this… he must pay for what he has done!” Sebastian couldn’t help but yell out his own anger.

            Justice pinned the Prince with a vicious look. “Yes. He must.” He looked to Varric… and then to Marian. “My friends… you must kill this body.”

            Marian’s eyes went wide at his demand but it was Varric who shook his head. “Justice, no… there has to be another way!”

            Justice looked at Varric and felt the pull of his sadness at the thought. “What would you have me do Varric?! I cannot allow this to stand! He _must_ answer for what he has done! He has condemned all mages in Thedas to suffer for his actions here today. He has murdered innocents in the name of a cause that he has twisted with anger and hate.”

            Marian shook her head firmly. “No, Justice. _You_ did not do anything. I cannot allow you to be another victim.” She ran her index finger over her bottom lip as she looked down and started pacing…

            Fenris stepped forward. “Justice, surely you can see the _injustice_ in allowing yourself to perish as well.”

            Sebastian listened to them argue to save… their friend. It dawned on him… they knew this spirit. They… cared for this spirit. He frowned deeply before stepping towards them. “I… cannot believe I am suggesting this but…” He felt sheepish as he spoke up, as if he didn’t have the right. “What of… a proper possession? Is there a way to… silence Anders permanently?”

            They all stared at Sebastian. Marian was the one to move first, she pointed at him and nodded. Looking back at Justice. “That might work actually.”

            Justice was looking at the Prince carefully… he could feel the pull of justice inside of the man. And yet… his compassion was great. He looked at them all and then at Marian. “I… I have never attempted such a thing… I… would not know where to start.”

            Carver cleared his throat, settling his hands on his hips. _My time… to shine._ “Then, it’s a good thing we have a Templar here… isn’t it.” He looked at Marian and gave her a confident nod. “In theory of course, it’s never encouraged…” He looked back to Justice. “It would be the same as if Anders were to try and do the same to you. It’s a battle of wills… you must find where he lives in the mind… and cast him out. Defeat him there… essentially… you will be battling him in single combat… but on a plane of existence that no one else can see.” Carver looked around at them and then back to the spirit. “Luckily, we can tell if you win or not. If you do not… we will more than gladly finish the job for you. If you do… I will be able to confirm it… and we can get to saving the innocent people of this city.”

            Marian looked at Carver carefully. He had grown so much since he left… but now was not the time to think on these things. “How will you know if he succeeds?”

            Carver gave her a dip of his head. “The same way I can tell that he is in there now. Templars are not without our own skills, Marian.”

            Justice looked between all of them. “I suppose… that would… be… justified.” He nodded to them before closing this body’s eyes. He turned inward. In mind’s eye he was as he had been when he first came to this world.

_His armor whole… his stride with renewed purpose. He felt his spectral sword on his hip. He felt… light again, as if nothing held him down. The trappings of this world no longer pushed in on him. He opened his eyes… bright white and shinning with determination as he honed in on Anders’ conscious thought. It was not hard to find. The man he once knew, was gone. What remained was a bitter man, twisted by anger. He stood behind him, the mere shadow of the man he once was. He felt no pity… nor remorse for his actions, which only fueled Justice’s need all the more. His voice came so easily here, with no need for actions. “Anders.”_

_Anders was in a rage… fury coursed through him. How dare they turn his friend against him? He knew it was their doing all along. That damn Hawke and that snarky dwarf, conspiring with Justice all along. He had overheard more than he thought he had… he knew of the amulet… he had warned them somehow. He had betrayed him.  Now he was trapped inside his own mind… trying to find a way out of the labyrinth that Justice had dropped him into. He straightened stiffly when he heard his name. He turned and faced the armored specter. It had been… a very long time since he had seen Justice this way. He felt the trepidation fill him up and knew that… it was time. “Have you come to end me then, old friend?”_

_Justice could sense the fear flicker in the man’s soul. Justice simply nodded and drew his sword. “You knew that I could not allow this to stand. Justice must be given to those you have wronged today, Anders.”_

_Anders sneered at him. “What of all the mages that have been wronged throughout Thedas? Where is their justice!?”_

_Justice shook his head. “I have not witnessed their plight. They are none of my concern.” For Justice was a spirit… and while a spirit may grow and change… as a spirit, it is near impossible for them to look past what they see, to look beyond the actions they witness._

_Anders gawked at him. “Unbelievable! You speak of Justice yet you—“ He was quickly interrupted as the spirit attacked._

_The fight was a gauntlet… eventually, all that was Anders left this world. Justice violently plucked each piece of him from the mind of this body and destroyed him. Only Justice remained._

Thoughts move fast… what seemed to take hours inside the mind of this body, only took mere moments as Marian, Varric, Carver, Sebastian, Fenris, and Merrill looked on. This body’s eyes fluttered and… Justice opened _his_ eyes. Gone were Anders’ hazel irises… slightly glowing pale blue replaced them. The whites of his eyes tinted the same color though not as vibrant. He looked at them, Marian first… Varric… and up at Carver. It was the first time… that he actually saw them. Many did not realize that… he was typically blind. For justice itself was blind. He relied on his ability to sense other people’s energies whenever he came forth… but now… these eyes were his own… and he could see, truly see them.

Carver had been sensing the entire time… he felt the battle start… and the exhaustion as it went on. Then… the final blow. He felt Anders just… disappear. He couldn’t help but give the spirit a hint of a grin. “Well done, Justice.”

Justice nodded to the Templar and found himself ensnared by a fierce yet quick hug. Marian gave him a firm nod as she released a tense breath. “Let’s go then…” She looked around at everyone. “I won’t fault any of you for running now… but those who want to fight… it’s a good day to save lives.”

The tale of the Champion was well known throughout Thedas… how she stood with the mages to defend against the tyranny of the Templars. But many did not understand the source of Meredith’s madness. Nor did the world know that a spirit of Justice stood beside her… and more than one Templar stood to defend the Champion. That _all_ of the remaining Templars stood against Meredith in the end. That it was Knight Captain Cullen who saw the Champion and her companions out of the city… who aided in their escape as the Divine’s forces moved in. Many didn’t know that Fenris and Merrill returned to her clan… that the clan welcomed her back, as they had witnessed her attempt to save the Keeper… and honored her willingness to sacrifice herself to protect _them._ That Fenris was welcomed and he found his place amongst the Dalish. That Merrill learned much from Hawke… and never again did she so much as think of dabbling in forbidden magics. That Merrill.. and Fenris… actually ended up a mated pair.

Nor did people know that Sebastian returned to Starkhaven with a different view, a more compassionate understanding of the difference between spirits and demons. And the mages in Starkhaven quickly found themselves falling under new laws of protection… which did not go over well with the Templars in that city-state. Nor did people know that Hawke received a letter from Isabella shortly after, asking after her safety… and that she apologized… and that Hawke had written her back, sending her a snarky reply with a crude drawing in a rather manly script that Isabella would appreciate… and all was forgiven. Many did not know what happened to Carver… he, along with Hawke… Justice… and Varric… simply vanished immediately following the hellish battle in Kirkwall. The Divine’s agents suspected that the Guard Captain knew what had become of them… but Aveline never gave an inch, nor did her husband, Donnic. The only trace the Divine’s agents found of them was a wrecked motorcycle outside of the Hanged Man… long since derelict and forgotten… the paint scratched off the fuel tank… and the lyrium long mined out of it.

Bodhan and Sandal eventually left the Hawke Estate, locking it tightly against the world and vanishing out of all knowledge. Orana followed the instructions that Fenris had left for her and located the Dalish clan just before they turned South, disappearing into the wilderness with her people. Turns out… people didn’t know a hell of a lot… and the book that Varric put out… only fueled what people _didn’t_ know. Because… he was a damn good liar.


	28. Chapter 28

It’d been a month since they’d left Kirkwall. Varric shifted gears as he looked over at Marian… she had her bare feet up on the dash as the wind caught her hair. She’d cut it so short… he thought he’d hate it… but damned if she didn’t make it look good. It didn’t even go past her ears. He’d punished her in return… his military style cut still didn’t feel right. She felt eyes on her and smiled at him. He glanced up to the rearview and saw Justice and Carver… Kable sitting between them. The jeep style vehicle hitting a bump in the road, swaying everyone. Varric smirked at Justice… remembering how he had sat there nervously as Carver cut his hair short… just like his. How Justice had listed away from the sheers… questioning Carver’s steady hand. Anders really was gone… there was no resemblance. Justice shaved off that ‘rat on his face’ according to the spirit. He wore jeans and a thermal, no robes for him. His sword leaning against the seat between his legs, his boots a combat style and far more comfortable, according to him. A rare amulet around his neck… _the amulet of the unbound_ , according to the Rivaini merchant Marian had bought it from.

Carver leaned against the seat, his hand resting on Kable’s back comfortably. His dress almost identical to Justice’s… since the spirit wore his freaking clothes, only the thermal was a bit looser on Justice and the man-spirit _had_ to wear a belt. Bethany’s necklace back around his neck… and Malcolm’s ring on his thumb. Not a single Templar symbol in sight. He glanced up and saw Varric’s eyes in the rearview, he flipped him off, drawing a smirk from both of them. He reached up and set a hand on Marian’s shoulder, giving her a fond squeeze… her hand covering his. She had… damn, she had forgiven him. _Life’s too damn short to hate you, Carver._ And he’d nearly fallen to his knees… he asked her to take the lyrium out of him, knowing she could. After what he witnessed… coupled with the reason he joined in the first place… he wanted nothing more to do with that life. She’d pulled it from him and just like that… he was clear. He was free. They all were.

Kable lifted his head from its perch on the console between Varric and Marian at the touch, he glanced at Carver. He too had forgiven the boy. He had felt the boy’s regret and sorrow… and his determination to prove himself. If Marian could forgive him… he could as well. He knew they were far from safe… but they _were_ free. He looked over at Justice… his maw open as he hung his tongue out at the man-spirit.

Varric chuckled at Carver, shaking his head as he turned the jeep around the bend. He felt fingers on the back of his neck and gave Marian a sidelong glance with a raised brow. “Driving here…” He murmured as he navigated the mountain pass. The air growing warm as they made their way into the valley. Varric sat up a bit as he drove the jeep over a hill and saw a house in the valley below them. “That must be it…”

Marian took hold of the roll bar above her head and hoisted herself up. She was about to answer when Justice spoke up. “It is.” His deep voice rumbling forth… they’d all wondered if it wouldn’t level out and if he’d end up sounding more like Anders… but it hadn’t, it was still just as deep as it had always been. Marian looked down at him and shook her head, she hated it when Justice answered in her stead. She couldn’t help the smile… they all needed a safe place to lay low for awhile.

They made it down to the house… they found it vacant and Varric picked the lock, dust covers on everything… it was obvious that no one had been here for quite some time. The men unloaded the boxes of supplies while Marian went around and opened all the wood trimmed windows… she didn’t bother to put her shoes back on, the soft grass was welcoming and the worn wood floorboards reminded her so much of home… her real home. Carver didn’t miss the resemblance either. She pulled the dust covered sheets off of all the furniture… and found an aged picture of the hero. “Carver… damn, look at her.” She called him over and offered him the picture.

Carver set the box he was carrying down and took the photo. “Wow… I almost forgot all about that summer. This must be her house all together.” He handed the photo to Varric when he walked up.

Varric couldn’t help the chuckle that came forth. There was Marian… damn, she must not have been more than twelve or thirteen… Carver and… Bethany… they were so little… and right next to Marian, Varric squinted… “Is that the Hero of Ferelden?”

Marian nodded, taking the picture back. “Braids and all. She was our second cousin. We spent an entire summer at Lake Calanhad once… her father took this.” _Before she got sent to the Circle_ Marian tacked on in her head, but she didn’t say. It was too painful.  

Varric smiled fondly as he watched Marian put it back on the shelf and walk off… he looked around. Damn… this was the Hero’s actual house. He walked around, his eyes eating up the pictures he saw. He saw Marian more than a few times… it was the oddest thing. Then… the most famous of all… he saw one of the entire crew that stopped the Blight, before the battle of Denerim of course… including… he looked hard at the mabari in the photo before he called out. “Hey Mare? This mabari… looks familiar…”

Marian was pulling the sheets off the beds upstairs when she let out a laugh at his distant words. She called down to him. “That’s Kable’s brother!”

Justice had walked up the stairs slowly, looking around… he saw Marian in one of the rooms and gave her a bit of a wave before walking into another one. He had seen the pictures too… and recognized Oghren, the others… he didn’t know but knew of. As far as bedrooms went… he noticed there were two up here… one downstairs. He looked around as he set a bag on the bed… “This will be my room.” He mumbled to himself… finding it strange that he… was going to have a room… all to himself. He was still getting used to having his own body, one that was not… well… the last time he was alone in a body, it was not very pleasant. If it wasn’t for his friends… he would have already died, that was for sure. Not from an injury but from simply not eating or drinking… or taking care of his other bodily functions. He felt rather foolish about it actually… especially the first time he woke up with… well… we’ll just say that… everything worked properly. He heard Carver damn near stomp up the stairs and claim the other room, falling onto the bed with an over exaggerated sigh. Justice walked over and looked in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back rather formally. “ _Must_ you be so loud?” Apparently, Marian had already gone back downstairs.

Carver lifted his head with a _hmm_. “Oh… sorry.” He gave a the man-spirit a smirk and propped himself up on his elbows. “Do you like your room?”

Justice glanced over his shoulder and then back at him. “Yes, it is quite sufficient.”

Carver shook his head as he sat up. “And best of all, it has a _door_.” He gave him a highbrowed nod.

Justice blinked at him. “Yes… it does… as do most rooms?”

Carver gave him a droll stare. “A door that _shuts_ , Justice. Damn, man… you have privacy now… you can… take care of… your body’s… _other_ needs.”

Justice blinked at him again, shaking his head in that way that said he didn’t understand what the hell the boy was talking about.

Carver groaned. For some reason or another, he had taken it upon himself to personally be responsible for the man-spirit, he’d never been in the roll of a being a caretaker before and he flourished in it. Marian and Varric cared for him as well but it was Carver who made sure Justice ate when he needed to… and he answered any and all questions the spirit had about this new body of his as well as… making sure he… made room… so he could eat and drink more. He reached down into his pack and pulled out a blank covered bound book, thin and discrete. He tossed it to him. “Here’s a hint.”

Justice caught the book with a somewhat flustered look. He tilted his head at Carver with a slightly confused look before he opened it and shut it very quickly, feeling his cheeks become inflamed. “Carver… there are…” He leaned out and looked around in the hall before walking into the room completely, lowering his voice though damned if the deep tenor didn’t still carry some. “Pictures of nude women in here.”

Carver tried _so_ hard not to laugh… but he chuckled anyway. “Yeah… I know.” He gave him another highbrow nod. “There’s supposed to be.”

Justice held the book up, making sure it stayed closed of course. “But… why? Carver… why would anyone want…” He straightened and felt his cheeks grow warmer.

Carver smirked. “I think you know.” He flicked his eyes down to the man’s zipper and back up to him, tilting his head slightly.

Justice looked down as well and blinked before looking back at him. “I um…” He held the book out to him. “I… am… not comfortable… with.. um…” He swallowed roughly. “Thank you, Carver but… I do not think I need… this.”

Carver looked at him as if he were joking at first but… that look fell slowly. He noticed how Justice was standing there… too rigid. “Hey…” He took the book and tossed it on the bed as he stood up and put a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to… damn, Justice. I wasn’t trying to make you…”

Justice grew even more uncomfortable at the hand on his shoulder. He took in a sharp breath and stepped back, out from under it. “I am well aware of what… that… particular part of the anatomy does, Carver. Anders was… quite promiscuous with… both genders.” He cleared his throat nervously. “I, however… have not chosen one gender or the other to be attracted to and did not plan to.” He held Carver’s eye as he said the last, forcing himself to remain steady.

Carver looked at him oddly as he took that sharp breath and backed away. “Oh.” He hadn’t even thought. The _both genders_ thing caught him off guard though, he raised his brows again. “ _Oh_ …” he heard the nervousness in his voice but then it was gone. He nodded at his last words but had to tear his eyes away from the spirit’s. “Right. I um, look man… I was just trying to, ya know… help ya out. For guys it’s… it can kind of drive ya crazy if you don’t. So… just letting you know if um…” He rubbed at the back of his neck as he began studying the floor, suddenly feeling rather… self-conscious about the conversation. “You start feeling… shaky or… can’t focus… that might be the problem.”

Justice gave him a nod in return, watching how he suddenly became so different. “It is appreciated, Carver… all that you have done to help… it is all appreciated. It means a lot to me.” He nodded again before turning around and heading back to his room. He took a steadying breath and ran a hand over his short hair. _Justice… newly bodied spirit… childlike in his ability to care for his basic functions… and look, his newest human trait… a liar._ Justice chastised in his head as he unpacked the bag he had set on the bed.

Carver gave him a bit of a wave as he left, turning around and doing the same thing with his own bag. Shaking his head at himself… _Carver, you are an idiot._ He really was just trying to help but somehow that trying to help took a hard left turn into severely uncomfortable zone with a healthy dose of what the hell was going on. The thought that… that body had… Carver shook his head slightly. It wasn’t that he disapproved, it was just… he personally had never even thought about it. Hell, attraction was attraction right? Who was he to judge. It wasn’t like Justice was going to go get himself a freaking boyfriend, the dude said he wasn’t planning on choosing either way. Still… what the fuck was that all about? Acting like a damn teenager, Carver chastised himself. You might as well of started kicking at the damn floor and going _aw shucks_. Carver gave an all over body shudder and not in a good way. Maybe it was time for _him_ to have a little alone time, thank the Maker for freaking doors.

Later that night, they all sat around the living room laughing as Carver brought the wine in from the kitchen. Varric was telling them a hilarious story about the time Isabella bet Corff something or another. He set the glasses down in front of them, keeping one for himself and falling into the chair by the fire, taking a healthy swallow. “Damn, Varric… I missed all the good stuff.”

Varric nodded as he picked up his own glass and took a swallow of his own. “Yep, that’s what happens when you run off and play Templar, Junior.” He caught the throw pillow as it came sailing at him and just tucked it behind himself.

Justice sipped at the wine, not trusting what it would do to him. He chuckled as he watched them… he glanced distractedly as Marian picked up her glass before he sat up and reached, taking it out of her hand and setting it back down. “No.” He just leaned back the way he had been as if he _hadn’t_ just done that.

Marian blinked at him. “Um… excuse me?”

Varric and Carver were both just looking at Justice with growing grins. Varric was the one to speak though. “What’s wrong, Justice? Don’t think women should drink? Don’t tell me you’re going to turn into one of _those_ guys.”

Justice shook his head with a bit of a shrug, speaking over the rim of his glass. “Women can drink all they want, it is just not good for the child.” He took that sip and licked his lips before he realized that they were all staring at him. “What?”

Marian’s mouth was just kind of open as she stared at the spirit… she blinked a few times but couldn’t quite get her brain to form a word. Carver was looking between all three of them with an equal look of shock on his face. But Varric… Varric set his glass down as he leaned forward… tremors going up his spine as he swallowed and looked at Justice intensely. “What… did you say?”

Justice got the very clear indication that… they had no idea. He made a sort of _eek_ face and set his own glass down, sitting up and clasping his hands before him. “Well…” He looked at Varric and felt the emotions brewing in the dwarf. “Marian is with child… about to enter her second phase any day now…” He looked between the two of them. “You two… did not know?”

Marian covered her mouth as she closed her eyes, the tendons in her neck tensing as she tried to still her pounding heart. She was trying to calm herself… ease her storm… she settled a hand over her abdomen slowly… she didn’t doubt Justice. But… she found herself somewhere between excited… so happy she couldn’t breathe… and terrified.

Varric shook his head at him suddenly. “That’s not possible…” He stood up almost too fast. “Dwarves are… practically sterile. I’ve been with her for years… it’s… and there’s no… way… children between… dwarves and… humans, it’s… the one thing… we’ve never had to worry about… it’s… ” He felt his own fear welling up inside of him as he looked down at her and saw the way she was sitting. “How far along did you say again?”

Justice watched them both carefully. The emotions coming off them were… like a hurricane. “About three months… he is developing as he should be.”

Carver raised his brows as he stared at Justice. “A boy?” Carver didn’t know what was going on with Varric and Marian, this was great news… this was… a blessing.

Varric covered his mouth as he bowed his head, his other hand settling on his hip. His eyes flicking around the room before he looked at Marian… and saw the fear in her eyes. He tried to feel anything but… anger and his own fear. He let his hand fall and sucked on his molar before he could stop the action. He tried to ease his expression but… couldn’t. He jabbed a finger at the bedroom as he pinned Marian with a look… he tried not to sounds angry when he spoke but… it didn’t really work. “Bedroom. Now.”

Marian took a shaky breath as she got up… gesturing to both Justice and Carver with a subtle shake of her head. She walked ahead of Varric… feeling numb as she moved, as if she couldn’t quite get a handle on how she felt about this. She walked into the downstairs bedroom and heard him shut the door behind her, he didn’t slam it… but she could tell he wanted to.

Carver watched them go and glanced at Justice. “How long have _you_ known?”

Justice picked his wine back up and took a rather large swallow. “I could sense the child’s soul about two months ago… he has a strong heart.” He nodded as he looked over at Carver.  

Carver’s brows went high. “You can tell that already?”

Justice nodded. “Of course. Already he is beginning to recognize the sounds around him…” Justice’s deep tenor went almost mystical as he spoke. “His heart settles into a rhythm about thrice as fast as his Mother’s. He feels her warmth and knows only safety. His only emotion is love. That’s what brought him into this world… and it’s at the core of his soul.”

Carver listened and drank down the rest of his wine, setting the empty glass on the table. “Wow…” He’d never admit it out loud… but he rather liked hearing Justice talk that way, his deep voice went raspy and he got this far off look in his unnatural eyes. It was… well, it was Justice. “What a night...” He stood up and stretched… scratching at his chest as he groaned. “I’m heading to bed… you should sleep too Justice, your body needs the rest.” He walked past him and settled his hand on the top of the man-spirit’s head and gave him a bit of a rub as he went.

Justice nodded to him as he spoke, smirking at his comment. He held his glass up to Carver when he walked by, closing his eyes at the touch but giving a firm nod. “I will be up in a minute.” He heard Carver climbing the stairs as he finished his wine… he stood up and collected the glasses and set them in the sink before he locked the doors. He dipped into this body’s magic… still not claiming it as his own… and sent a spell around the house, a shield of protection. He bent low and scratched Kable behind an ear as he lay before the hearth before he climbed the stairs, feeling a bit dizzy from the wine. He ran his hand along the wall as he walked, his steps a bit… off. “Good night, Carver.” He murmured low before he turned into his room, smirking when he heard a return farewell from the boy. He shut his door tight against the world and leaned against it for a moment, sagging slightly. He felt… funny. He liked it… but didn’t at the same time. He saw his bed in the pale light… just barely enough to see by. He pulled his thermal off, feeling the cool metal of his amulet on his chest. He picked it up and pitched his chin down, trying to see it. It was no use of course, the chain was far too short. He gave up and tossed his thermal on the floor, he’d pick it up in the morning. He almost stumbled on his way to bed, sitting on the edge as he bent over and unlaced his boots, wondering why there were so many damn eyelets. He finally jerked them off and cursed out loud when he dropped one. He cringed before tucking them under the bed, nearly falling off himself. He shook his head… _no more wine_ he thought. Or… at least… not that much. He leaned back and fell down on the bed… closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. He unzipped his jeans, tugging them off his hips as he lifted them off the bed, not daring to stand again, doing the back and forth battle between his jeans and boxers, trying to keep one on and not the other… finally kicking them off and letting them fall to the floor, he fought with the blankets before he was finally under them… he lifted his head as he realized his socks were still on. “Fuck it.” He muttered, his deep tenor cutting out as he let his head fall back onto the pillow. He rolled onto his side. He let his mind start to drift… he thought about the battle in Kirkwall. He remembered well the fight that led to the Gallows… at the Gallows… and after. He fought hard, using this body’s magic to its fullest… he witnessed how people had paired off to watch each other’s back. Varric and Marian… Fenris and Merrill… Sebastian and Aveline, once she rejoined them… and he was surprised when he had felt armor press against his back, he had jerked around and locked eyes with Carver, both giving each other a nod of understanding. They went through… so much that day. Saving each other time and time again… it was hard to go through something like that without being changed. Without changing the way you look at someone. Without changing the way you _feel_ about someone.  In the month since then, they’d only grown closer. Carver had helped him so much in learning to control this body and be solely responsible for its care. On the road, they trained… he helped him grow stronger, working muscles that Anders neglected since he depended on his magic so much. Even in this short time, Justice’s body had changed, his muscles a bit bigger, more toned and defined… it was far easier to swing his sword now than it was when he’d first gotten it. Carver was steadily helping him learn… who he was. What kind of man he was going to be. Even when he had inhabited Kristoff many years ago… he had never even entertained the thought of what kind of man _he_ was. His mind quickly jumped to the conversation he’d had earlier with Carver… and the boy’s attempt to give him… even more guidance. It also occurred to Justice that while he referred to him as boy… he did not look at him as such. He was a friend… and he had grown quite fond of him. He enjoyed the irritated way Carver would look at him whenever he did refer to him as _boy_. Justice did like to tease him, it always tugged at the corners of his mouth, turning them upwards. Even now, the thought alone had him smirking in the dark. He took a deep breath and pulled the covers further up on himself, letting them fall over his face… something this body apparently needed for sleep… left over from its previous owner. Justice always marveled at how it was like another world under there… how it changed ones perception so easily. He opened his eyes and watched as the light blanket and sheet waved gently with his breaths. He also noticed the subtle glow of his eyes, illuminating this other world beneath the covers. He blinked lazily as he thought about the conversation some more… and how he had so easily lied to Carver. He simply did not wish to divulge the information to him… it was… private. He wasn’t foolish, as new as he was… if he were to chose between the two, it’d be male. For whatever reason, that was apparently… how he was built, inside… and out. So, Carver’s book was useless to him. He didn’t know what that information would do to his and Carver’s friendship… so he elected to keep it to himself. He sighed heavily as he thought about it though… but the interest had passed… and he knew he’d now find sleep much easier. It didn’t take long before he drifted off… falling into a deep sleep much easier than nights prior thanks to the wine and a little eased tension.


	29. Chapter 29

Marian had walked into the bedroom and immediately over to the window, throwing it open and leaning out, taking a deep breath in through her nose and letting out through her mouth. _A child? Are you fucking kidding me?! How could this have happened… it was literally a one in a million chance…_ She felt the sting in her eyes and took another deep breath, determined _not_ to start bawling like a… well… baby. “Shit.” She cursed quietly to the night. She had never thought of herself as a Mother… never _her_. She had always thought that she’d be… like… the kick ass Aunt or something, but never the Mother. She wasn’t… _that_ kind of person… it just… she sucked at comforting and being… nurturing.

Varric _had_ wanted to slam the door… he’d wanted to curse loudly, yell… throw something… _break_ something. But he didn’t do any of those things… he shut the door quietly and watched as Marian let the night air in. He couldn’t believe it… _what the actual fuck._ His anger stemmed directly from his fear… his worry. They were currently fugitives… not to put too fine of a point on it. He knew agents of the Divine were no doubt tracking them, or at the very least, keeping an ear to the ground for their whereabouts. He didn’t trust the Templars back in Kirkwall to _not_ throw them under the bus, to _not_ point the finger squarely at Marian and her known associates as the instigators of the mage rebellion. Already, hell, even at the last village, word was spreading that mage uprisings were starting all over the Free Marches, those idiots _inspired_ by what happened in Kirkwall… and many were protecting themselves from the immediate backlash that all mages felt in retaliation for the terroristic act that was done. So, basically… this was the _worst_ possible time, _ever_ , for this to happen. And then there was himself… he _still_ didn’t fully trust himself when it came to Marian, not really… and what the hell did he know about being a father? Sure, he’d thought about having barrens one day but… that was a pipe dream he flushed years ago, long before he met Marian. He didn’t know his own father… but Bartrand did… and he turned out shitty, so… what if that was because of their father? What if that was… just… bad genetics or some shit? He realized that he had started pacing again… rubbing at the back of his neck and skull, his brows kept low in a seemingly perpetual scowl. He kept glancing back to Marian but she was still facing the night… he wanted to say… something. He didn’t want her to think that… he was angry with _her_.

Marian’s brain started racing… questions started bombarding her. What of her magic? What would that do? Was it even possible? Could a half dwarf child be afflicted with magic? How would that work? What if… what if she couldn’t carry the child to term? She suddenly felt panic starting to dump into her. A million and one _what-if’s_ started racing through her head, from what if she wasn’t strong enough… to what if something happened to her or Varric, what would happen to the child then? All of a sudden, all the dangers that she had never thought about, that were never relevant before… became very real. She felt like she was drowning… she clawed at the simple cotton shirt over her chest, desperate for a full breath, eyes wide with panic as she tried to take a full breath. She couldn’t… she stepped back but held fast to the windowsill with one hand and doubled over… gasping for air.

Varric heard his pulse in his ears, the blood rushing around his body so fast… he couldn’t… process it, not fully. He just… couldn’t. Then he heard the first sharp intake of breath… he looked over at her and immediately crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her upright, placing her back to his chest as he splayed a hand over hers, stilling her clawing. “Easy…” He took a deep steady breath and repeated it… forcing her body to mimic him… and slow its breathing. He knew what to do whenever these attacks hit her… they were rare… but they weren’t unheard of. He felt her breathing ease, felt her lean against him as if she just didn’t know what else to do. He swallowed roughly as he settled his chin on her shoulder. He wanted to say something but still… he had no words. He felt a tremble race down his spine as he reached… his shaking hand sliding down her body slowly, slipping into the front of the sleep pants she had changed into earlier in the evening... settling his hand on her lower abdomen and feeling his heart skip a beat as he realized that… she filled his palm… the faint rounding of that part of her body, the subtle change that had him close his eyes and pull her closer to him. Something inside of him… shifted. All that fear induced anger just… fell away from him. He was still plenty worried about a whole lot of stuff but… his love for her eclipsed it all. He kissed her shoulder gently before he did the same to her neck, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally found it. “ _Our_ son.”

Marian felt his strength and comfort pull her through the panic. She leaned against him as she looked out into the night, still… in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening to them. She held his hand over her chest with both of hers as she took a deep but shaky breath. Then she felt his other hand moving down her body and she closed her eyes… a tear sliding down her cheek. His hand felt cool against her… cradling her lower abdomen like that was… oddly intimate. It seemed to… pull her thoughts in a single direction. He pulled her closer and she tightened her hold on his hand, moving to cover his other… though her hand shook as well. She turned her face towards him as he kissed her… and those words… spoken with such awed emotion had her skin instantly shine for him. “I’m so scared…” She whispered to him, lifting her hand to his cheek and leaning her temple against his brow. “But…” She swallowed as she closed her eyes and allowed herself to just… feel the gentle joy. “He’s probably going to look just like you.”

Varric closed his own when he heard her confession, he nodded in agreement with her on that, snuggling against her as she did him. Then those words… his hand on her abdomen splayed further. He smirked before adding on. “With your eyes…” The thought struck him… he thought of seeing her growing large with his child… and he felt pride swell in him. It also seemed to affect him physically… he bent low and nuzzled against her neck, kissing her gently… his hand on her chest already on the move. He couldn’t explain it… but something about the idea alone… just… lit him up. He pulled her away from the window and laid her down on the bed and whispered to her, words of love and adoration as he made love to his wife well into the night, chasing the fear away, at least for the night.

The next morning Carver woke up way too early… but it was always like that for him in a new place. He rolled out of bed with a groan, taking the sheet with him and pulling it over his shoulders, wrapping it around him against the morning chill. He _could_ have gotten dressed, but that would require dexterity that he just didn’t have this early in the morning. The sun wasn’t even up all the way… he walked out into the hall and eased Justice’s door open, smirking at the man-spirit. He was sprawled out on his stomach, blankets bunched around him… one socked foot dangling off the bed, his boxers pulled tight… somehow he managed to make the full sized bed look too small. He also had a snore on him that would make a Chantry Mother curse… Carver just shook his head and made his way downstairs, trying to be quiet but they creaked. He hit the landing with a yawn that overtook him, causing a shiver to go down his spine and for him to give a sort of all over body shudder. He glanced at the open door and started towards the kitchen only to stop quickly and look back at the door with wider eyes. He walked over to it a bit more steady and quicker… easing the screen door open, relaxing when he saw Kable laid out on the porch. He blinked a few times, looking out over the fog covered lawn… he could make a figure out but not who. He walked out and down the front steps… the grass was cool and damp from the morning dew but he continued, out about thirty yards. He smirked when he recognized it as Varric. The man was out here in his jeans and nothing more. “Varric, what are you—“

Varric jerked around with a hiss and gave Carver a dramatic wave of his hand. “Shhh.” He gestured for him to come closer. Once he did, he gestured ahead of them, another thirty yards or so, where Marian was. “She’s doing the wash.” He whispered low to the boy.

Carver blinked and came closer, following the gesture and seeing his sister through the fog as patches moved… she had apparently found the river that cut through the valley floor, she was bent over and pulling some of the dust covers out of the water. Carver blinked at Varric before whispering to him. “Why are we being quiet then?”

Varric held a finger up. “Just wait…” He had a half smile on, his eyes never leaving her. Not a moment later, Marian’s voice started to fill the valley… the fog carrying it up and the high walls of the canyon creating awe inspiring acoustics. He looked at Carver and gave him a knowing grin, crossing his arms over his chest.

Carver had been looking at Varric like he was crazy before he heard her… he looked back at her as his expression just… fell. He felt his heart wilt as his breathing picked up… her song was about going down to rivers and praying… his own voice barely above a whisper as he commented. “Mother used to sing that… whenever she did the laundry…” He swallowed roughly as a wave of grief went through him… yet… comfort at the same time.

Varric looked at him carefully… reaching and taking hold of his shoulder firmly, giving it a squeeze before releasing it. He just nodded. What shocked the hell out of him was… Carver joined her. He walked towards her as he joined her song… Marian jerked her head over but didn’t stop, she smiled softly as she held her hand out… for his sheet. Carver’s voice wasn’t bad, actually… Varric just looked on with awe. Damn… he could almost see Leandra there beside them… slapping the wrung out sheets on the large flat river rocks. He walked over and sat on one of the wide rocks further up on the bank, watching his wife… and brother-in-law. He about jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice beside him.

“Not a bad life, Varric… not a bad life at all.” Justice jumped down off the rock Varric was sitting on, still in his boxers and nothing else. He smirked at the dwarf as he jumped before he got a running head start and jumped into the crawling river with a yell, splashing Marian and Carver both… after scaring the crap out of them too.

Varric barked out a laugh as he nodded… he had to agree. Not a bad life at all.


	30. Chapter 30

Varric had never been more terrified… he thought watching her face down the Arishok and Meredith had been rough? Ha! They had nothing on this. He had held her hand as she ushered their son into this world one dark and stormy night… her screams filling the air as she lay sweat soaked on the bed. Carver paced outside the open door, at the ready to go and get anything else… he’d already brought so much hot water and towels… and damned if he wasn’t as white as a ghost for how much blood there was. Justice however, had reassured them all that it was normal. Anders had many memories of assisting during childbirth. She labored seemingly tirelessly for hours… before Varric heard his son’s first cries. That single moment forever etched in his memory as he leaned forward, brows high… hand clutching hers as Justice, shirt rolled up to his elbows, covered in sweat himself, held their newborn son up to them and settled him on Marian’s chest. Varric felt like the world itself had slowed to a crawl… he laid his hand on his son’s back, still wet from the womb… Marian’s hands covering his and holding their son close as she cried tears of exhaustion, relief, and joy. Carver had rushed in and just stood there, hands held high as he hooped and hollered like the big dork he was. Justice wore a broad grin as he healed Marian’s body and cleaned her up, pulling the layers of sheets away as he stood up. Varric watched in awe as Marian wiped their son clean, as he frantically screamed at the world, angry to be so suddenly evicted from his Mother… and then wrapped him tightly and how he still fussed at her. Varric was amazed as Marian seemed to be… unphased, as if she hadn’t just worked for hours… he watched on as she put their son to her breast and how he latched on out of pure instinct, instantly becoming quiet. Justice had returned and kneeled on the bed, adjusting Marian’s arm to better support the child… telling her how he should be arranged against her body before he quickly backed off as Varric climbed onto the bed, he couldn’t help it. He had to be near… he kissed Marian breathlessly before settling his cheek against her chest, opposite and slightly higher than their son and just… stared at him. Varric had never thought… that he could love someone… so fast… and so much. He ran his hand over the quickly drying down of his son’s hair… it was dark brown now… but there was no telling what it would end up being. Varric was… completely taken. He felt Marian’s hand in his own hair, hair he had let grow… deciding quickly that the short cut just wasn’t for him. He swallowed roughly and smiled at his son, running a finger over his small cheek as he nursed. “Welcome to the world… Bjorn Malcolm Tethras..”


	31. 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning!!!! Death... :(

“Varric, are you _sure_.” Marian asked, again… for the hundredth time.

Varric sighed heavily as he tossed the leather satchel into the jeep. “Mare… look…” He gave her a pleading look of his own. “I want him to have it. It’s… about the only thing out of all that Orzammar junk that… is worth something to me. I know I should have… thought to grab it but… I want Bjorn to have it. It’s in a box, in the dresser, in the corner. I know exactly where it is.” He took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I won’t be gone more than a week, I swear. You know I wouldn’t miss his birthday for anything in the world.”

Marian shook her head at him. “Alright… but… know that you’re leaving under heavy protest.” She ran her hand down his cheek lightly before little hands on her leg had her bending and picking the blonde haired toddler up. “Say bye to Papa.” The term stressed the last a as opposed to the first, traditional in Ferelden.

Varric smirked at her before taking the squirming boy, tossing him up and being rewarded with a squeal. “Be back before you know it.” He made growling sounds into his son’s cheek and had him smiling all the more.

Bjorn’s gentle voice telling him bai-bai was still in his head, Marian’s scent clung to his coat as he drove down the mountain pass, secure in knowing his family was safe and protected… Justice and Carver having seen him off as well… but Kable sat shotgun, his head hanging out the window. The trip back to Kirkwall was an odd one, that was for sure. He parked the jeep outside town and walked in on foot, Kable at his side. He didn’t know what he’d find when he got there… but he wasn’t prepared for what he experienced. The city was still under a type of Marshal Law… the Guard was spread too thin and many homes were vacant, boarded up… or crumbling. Varric walked along… as if he belonged there… which he quickly realized, that he just didn’t anymore, not now at least. He made it over to the Hanged Man and smirked, seeing that it was still open. That at least gave him some comfort… he had to take the stairs up to his loft and gave a relieved breath when he saw it was all still locked up. He shouldered his way in and looked around… damn if this place didn’t bring back memories. He dug through the Orzammar pile and pulled the dresser drawer open, pulling out the small box and smiling at it, popping it open and showing it to Kable who sniffed eagerly. It was an amulet… didn’t look like much but it was handed down through four generations… and soon, one more. Varric had worn it his entire childhood… his father having draped it around his neck himself when he was no more than Bjorn’s age. He stuffed a few other things in his pack, some pictures and a few shirts before heading back out. He was about to head back to the jeep when he fingered the key to the cellar on his keyring… he glanced down at Kable and made a bit of a face. Might as well check on the Estate while he was here.. pick up some photos for Marian… he knew she’d appreciate that. Walking through her estate felt like walking through a tomb… he gathered her family photos and stuffed them in his pack. Everything was going fine… until apparently he made a huge mistake. He left by the front door… oh who was he kidding, someone had obviously tipped the Divine’s agents that he was in town. He was tackled to the ground and Kable attacked them in return… Varric fought back fiercely as he heard the mabari viciously tearing someone to shreds… then he heard a loud _thunk_ and Kable’s high pitched yelp followed by a lot of whimpering. Varric twisted and bucked, kicking as he yelled for the hound… he turned and saw the brindled mabari on the ground, a bolt sticking out of his side. “You bastards!” Varric fought with renewed vigor only to have his arms pitched behind him and a knee driven into his back. He blinked at the tears as Kable looked at him, Varric ignored his captors. “It’s all right, bud… easy okay… just stay down… just… breath…” Damn if Varric didn’t see the fear in that hounds eyes. He heard one of the people around him call for the dog’s death, probably the asshole that Kable attacked. Varric panicked, “No, don’t hurt him!!” But it didn’t matter. He slammed his eyes shut as the sword came down… a moment later a sword pommel knocked him in the back of the head and it was lights out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :( I felt that there had to be something more to Varric's hate of Cassandra (I don't ship them so for me it's not tension). This... would definitely do it.


	32. Chapter 32

All told… Varric was taken to the Temple of Sacred Ashes… with a vicious hate for the Lady Seeker. But then the world went crazy… and as he stared up at the breach… he thought of only one thing. His family. He prayed like hell that they were safe. He fought like hell too. He did the best that he could to keep the lie going… he couldn’t even dare to write her. And he hated it. He spent hours upon hours at night staring at a single picture he kept in his wallet, hidden behind other small papers… it was just a silly picture of the three of them that he’d taken as he held the camera. But damned if it wasn’t getting worn from how much he was taking it in and out of his wallet. He didn’t want to make any new friends and he kept everyone at arm’s length. The day his son turned three… Varric couldn’t even deal with people at all… and when he did, he wasn’t pleasant. He didn’t have a single kind word for the Seeker… he offered up only civil advice to the new Harold, even if he did believe that this man was sent by Andraste… he still longed for his family. And when Haven went down… he knew he had to contact her, there would be no more putting it off, especially when the true enemy revealed himself. And… he knew the bastard.

They hadn’t even made it to wherever the hell Baldy was leading them when Varric wrote the letter… he’d made it short but… simply put and didn’t let Leliana touch it, he tied it to a bird himself, whispering to it where it needed to go.

Justice was the one who was standing outside, his hand held up for the large crow to land on. He took the letter and sent the possessed bird back without a thing. He didn’t read it… he had known it was coming… and he knew it was for Marian. She had been… beside herself with worry for months. She had risked much in contacting various people… and had been tracking Varric since Kirkwall. Carver had gone to the city and collected the jeep… and Kable’s body. They buried him in the valley. Justice rushed the letter into her waiting hands… Bjorn asleep on her lap. She unscrolled it and breathed a sigh of relief… even though Justice had been keeping a faded ear out for Varric… so he knew that the dwarf was at least alive after Haven’s destruction. This was still… well, it helped.

_M, Seeker jacked me. At a place called Skyhold, won’t be hard to find, follow the line. Come alone. Don’t bring B, not safe. I should have listened. I’m sorry. –V._

Marian settled her lips to her son’s head and trembled slightly, nodding as Justice took him and carried him to the room and laid him on the bed. He returned to find her already pulling her boots on. “Marian… please be careful.” Justice held her staff out to her… she hadn’t used it in so long.

Carver stood nearby and sighed heavily, worry etched on his face. “Call out for Justice and he’ll be there in no time… he can fade step his way to you.” He walked over and helped Marian with her coat, handing her a traveling pack, already to go. “Give Varric our love… and punch that fucker in the stomach for me. He shouldn’t have gone.”

Marian nodded, she took a deep breath, trying to still herself. “One last push…” She looked between them. “Watch over Bjorn.”

Justice gave a formal bow while Carver nodded. Justice speaking for the both of them. “Do we not always? Be safe, Marian.”

Marian looked through the open door to her room and saw her son sleeping on the bed. “Make sure he knows that I miss him… and love him…” She turned away quickly, knowing that if she didn’t leave now… damned if she was going to get out the door at all.

Carver gave her a gentle smile. “He always knows that. But we’ll make sure. Now go get that idiot.” He watched as Marian walked out the front door and started across the field… and vanished into waves of heat… as if she had been a mirage, something she could do but only if she was alone, it allowed her to travel much faster. He looked back over at Justice with a crease in his brow. “That damn dwarf… what the hell did he get himself into this time…”

Justice watched Marian go and then Carver’s words caught his attention. He looked out over the mountains, shaking his head. “Something even he cannot handle on his own, that is for certain.” He clasped his hands behind his back and looked back to Bjorn, watching the boy’s aura ebb around him, gyrating and flexing with unspent magic that warred with his father’s legacy. Justice was grateful for that every day… it protected the boy from the dangers of the fade, allowing him to sleep as sound as the stone without the fear of demons. Justice must have had his own look of worry because he felt Carver’s hand on his shoulder… he looked over at him and tried to ease it, at least for his sake.

Carver saw how Justice watched the boy… as if he was waiting for the moment when the world would come and try to destroy the life he’d help create here. He put a strong hand on his shoulder, flexing and holding it tightly. He’d grown so close to him these past few years… much closer than a brother or a friend… so much so that he was certain he didn’t want to look too closely at it. He watched as Justice tried to relax his expression… and failed. He reached with his other hand and clapped it against the man’s cheek and neck comfortably, giving him a few pats. “They’ll be alright. Nothing short of the Maker himself could keep them apart.” He raised his brows as he nodded to him, he was sure of his words. It was the one thing in this rapidly unraveling world that he _was_ sure of.

Justice stiffened and looked away from him, turning his face away from the man’s hand, feeling his nerves kick in. “Of course.” He heard the formality of his deep voice as it came forth and he stepped away from the comfort that Carver offered so innocently. Over the years, Justice had learned a great many things about the world and himself. It wasn’t as though they were isolated up here in the mountains; there was a village no more than three miles away and they often visited for supplies. Carver visited more often for entertainment… but Justice did not. He had learned much about what kind of man he was… something he’d never had to entertain in the past. But he was fairly certain about who he was… and realized the difference between the mind and the metaphysical heart. He recognized many emotions and knew how to cope with many of them… all three of his friends helping him many times over with all of these things. Shortly before Varric had left… he’d helped him identify one that had been plaguing Justice… loneliness. Which had confused Justice… for he was not alone. But Varric explained that… beings of this plane of existence… longed for companions that were closer to them, just as Varric had Marian. Justice understood then… he spent many nights since thinking about it as he sat on the porch, smoking hand rolled cigarettes… a horrid habit that he’d picked up over the years. Now that both Marian and Varric were gone… he felt that emptiness all the more. He sighed heavily as he headed for the kitchen… knowing well that Bjorn wouldn’t sleep for very long before he would be up and if any of them wanted dinner, he had better get started. Lucky for him, they all seemed to like the three things he knew how to make.

That night, once Bjorn was sleeping soundly… which was no small task but between himself and Carver, they managed to get the distraught boy to finally give up his toddler fueled crusade to ‘go fine Ama an Papa’. Justice found himself once again out on the front porch, but he did not lounge… not tonight. He sat on the front steps, a hand rolled burning away unsmoked between his fingers as he stared into nothingness… his forearms resting on his knees as he breathed slowly. He could feel the tears in the sky… the rifts forming all over Thedas… the fade pushing and pulling at him. Yet the valley remained clear… for now. Demons had yet to drift near the mountainous oasis… the presence of Justice alone was enough to keep them at bay, for he never sacrificed any of his spirit self to live in this world. He’d found a way to co-exist, to straddle the line between human and spirit, having the weaknesses of both… and the strengths of both. He absentmindedly fidgeted with the amulet on his neck, feeling the protective power flowing out of it as if it were a river, a breath of its own. _Marian… Varric…_ his voice echoed in his mind. He missed them… deeply. He didn’t feel right without them here. It was times like these that he wished he believed in such a thing as the Maker… that he was a spirit of faith… so that he could pray as he so often heard Varric do. It seemed to bring the dwarf comfort when he found it nowhere else. But Justice had never found that part of humanity, faith in a Maker of supreme power was either beyond or below him, he couldn’t decide which.

Carver leaned against the doorjamb, watching Justice as he sat there. Sometimes the man could be _so_ still, it was a jarring reminder that there was, in fact, a powerful spirit residing within that body. He had seen the concern and the worry in his eyes all evening… and how Bjorn’s outburst had seemed to strike him deeply. Carver had been inside, picking up the living room… a job that Marian usually did… when he realized that… this was the first real time that Justice had ever been without Varric or his sister… that… for the first time since he became in charge of his life, his own path, his own body; that he was on his own. Carver wasn’t without his own worries… but he knew his sister was strong, he trusted in her capability to protect herself and those she loved. It didn’t mean he liked it though. But… his place was here, watching over his nephew… and Justice. Though, he knew that he didn’t need to watch over him anymore. He’d changed much these last few years… so much so that it had taken Carver some time to accept certain things about him. He didn’t understand why Justice seemed to isolate himself, how two years ago, it suddenly wasn’t alright to touch him anymore, even in comradery. It had made him feel… denied somehow, for he saw how Justice allowed Marian and Varric both to give him physical attention, never more than a moment or two but he always allowed it and never stiffened or pulled away… as he did with him. Even earlier… when Carver could see that the man needed to feel some comfort, some reassurance… he hadn’t allowed it beyond the initial moment. He shoved off from the doorjamb, clearing his head of the random thoughts and the very real worries that were plaguing him. He settled beside him on the steps, glancing at his face… noticing how hard set his features were. He looked out over the grassland before them and sighed heavily, clasping his hands before him. “Can you tell whether or not she’s made it there yet?” Carver knew Marian could travel quickly in that way of hers… but he didn’t know how far this Skyhold place was, nor exactly how fast Marian could go when she really wanted to.

Justice felt the startle rattle inside of him but it didn’t show on the outside. He cast a sidelong glance at him before wincing slightly as the hand rolled reached his fingers, dropping it in the dirt and crushing it beneath a boot, he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “No, she is not there yet.” He let his hands hang there as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, the muscles between his shoulders tense from the worry. “Why can this world not simply remain peaceful… between blights and wars… it is a wonder that any have survived thus far.”

Carver nodded at his answer, glancing over at him when he spoke again, he couldn’t help but smirk… but he heard the weariness in his voice. He reached and ran a hand along his back, over his shoulders, aiming to grab hold of the back of his neck when he felt him stiffen and suddenly stand up, all but leaping off the steps and taking a few jogging steps out into the grass. Carver looked after him with an almost disbelieving look before he took hold of the porch railing and hoisted himself off the stairs. “Alright, that’s it… Justice, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Justice was trying to just… relax, when he felt Carver’s hand on him… _again_. He tensed and then got away from his touch as quickly as he could… okay, perhaps not quite as quickly as he really could but… quick enough. He trotted out into the field before he slowed, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He ran a hand through his hair, hair that had grown quite a lot since they’d been here, yet he never let it get too far past his ears. He shook his head and listed away from Carver’s words. “N… nothing.” He cleared his throat, his deep voice having cut out. “Nothing. I am simply—“

“Bullshit!” Carver’s brows went low as he felt his temper flare at being lied to. He drew up behind Justice and took hold of his shoulder again, giving it a strong jerk, forcing him to turn. “Now tell me the fucking truth, what the hell is your problem.”

Justice’s eyes flared at being interrupted, even more so when he found himself so rudely turned around, he met Carver’s look, his tenor coming out angry. “My problem is your incessant need to invade my personal space… why must you insist on touching me?!” He threw a hand out between them, feeling his anger spike.

Carver’s brows pitched upwards at Justice’s uncharacteristic response. He hadn’t heard such anger in the man’s voice in many years… and the response itself? It made him wonder what he had done that would illicit such a reply. “Because… you’re my friend. I… I thought we were close, Justice. I…” He only grew more angry for the hurt he felt at being yelled at, at being scolded. “What the hell did I do to piss you off so much?”

Justice took a sharp breath, pulling in a lot of air and trying to calm himself. He just shook his head at Carver and stepped past him, aiming back for the house. He was intent on not speaking further until he’d had time to ease his mind.

Carver rushed ahead of him and pushed against his chest. “Don’t walk away… answer me!” His simple blue eyes were fixed, giving the very clear impression that he was not going to be moved on this… a characteristic that must run in the family.

Justice pulled up, his eyes flashing dangerously as he looked down at Carver’s hand on his chest. _Did he not just get through making it clear that he no longer wished to be touched?!_ He was pretty sure that if he was a mabari hound, he would have growled low at the man. As it were, he was not a mabari hound… so the most he could do was glare at him. His muscles tensed beneath his hand, filling out the shirt he wore as he took deeper breaths than he did a moment earlier, that low hum began in the back of his mind… just as it always did whenever Carver laid a hand on him. He saw the look in his eyes and felt the hurt coming off of him. He truly believed he had done something wrong… when in fact he had done nothing at all. Justice subconsciously rolled his upper lip in, scraping it with his bottom teeth quickly before he took hold of Carver’s wrist improperly, his palm covering the top of his wrist, his thumb settling over the back of his hand. He swallowed tensely as he ran that thumb over his hand _too_ slowly, purposefully, as if to prove his words without actually saying them. “You have done nothing wrong… the fault is mine. I have become… _too_ close to you.” He released him and leaned back, away from his hand. “This is but my attempt to rectify that.” He felt the muscles in his jaw start to tremble, as if he had gone cold, though he hadn’t. _Fear, you are feeling fear…_

Carver matched the man’s glare, fully prepared to give it right back to him for as long as it took to get a fucking answer out of him. The last thing they needed was unrest between them, they needed to band together right now dammit, not have this wedge between them. He felt Justice’s tension and damned if it didn’t sting. Then… there was his hand on his wrist… the first contact in years. Carver’s hardened expression tensed at the… well… it was a freaking caress, that’s what it was. Then the words came out in the voice he knew so well… he swallowed roughly, eyes flaring in… surprise? Shock? He… didn’t even know. His mouth fell open only the slightest bit as Justice leaned away and Carver let his hand fall, as if he hadn’t the strength to lift it any longer. He got the very clear impression that… he was standing at a crossroads with this man, right here.. and right now, especially since Justice was still just… staring at him and damned if he didn’t see fear trailing on the edges of his unnaturally pale blue eyes. There was no way in hell he was going to let _this_ come between them, he knew that. And… he knew he wasn’t going to treat Justice any differently because he’d apparently… chosen a gender after all. He cared for him too much to do that. But that left him with a decision, now didn’t it. Carver had never really thought about it either way. But… he had to wonder… considering what exactly had brought them to this confrontation… Carver realized that, he did reach for Justice quite often, as if it were as natural as breathing. He wanted to touch him in some way… a fondness there that he just wanted to feel by way of a physical connection. Before he could understand exactly why he was doing it… he stepped towards him and just… wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace and holding him there, even though he felt him jerk and go rigid almost violently. He settled his hand on the back of his neck gently and his other on the center of his back, his chin leaning against the muscle just above his collarbone… his eyes closed on their own as he took a deep breath and just… stood there.

Justice watched as shock flickered across the man’s face before indecision played around in his eyes. Exactly why he had been trying to avoid this exact conversation… he didn’t want to put Carver in this position. He didn’t want to… paint him in a corner, where nothing he said could be right. He knew that Carver enjoyed women and thus… this unhealthy, in his opinion, attraction of his… was ill advised at best. But then… he embraced him. He felt his nerves roll in his stomach as he went stiff and still, swallowing against the sudden tightness in his throat. He felt Carver’s breathing… so much slower than his own for the discomfort he felt. Why was he hugging him? Justice was thoroughly confused but it didn’t stop him from releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, as if resigning himself to the embrace, he bowed his head and settled his hands on the space between the middle and lower of Carver’s back lightly. _How cruel this world was_ , he thought, _to intersect two individuals who may never be._ It also didn’t help that he felt rather pathetic… for over two years he’d pined for him like a ridiculous boy crushing on a school mate. And it wasn’t for lack of options… there had been plenty of advances upon him in the local village… it was something else. These thoughts and others were interrupted rather abruptly… he felt a kiss, feather light but unmistakably, on the side of his neck. He flinched away from it and turned to look at Carver with an alarmed expression.

Carver had been thinking as well. About quite a few things. About the time that they’d spent together… and, well, truth be told… that if Justice had been a girl, would he had already been with _her_? Carver’s answer to himself was a resounding yes. So… that had him thinking further. What was it exactly that was the problem? Or… was there even a problem at all? He remembered a conversation he’d had with Marian once, when she was still large with Bjorn. He had asked her how the hell she had known that Varric had been the one for her… and she had told him that… she’d just felt _safe_ with him… and that was pretty much how it started. And Carver realized that right there, in that moment, when Justice put his arms around _him_ … he had never felt safer in his entire life. He felt like… nothing could hurt him, that… nothing would _dare_ hurt him as long as he was right here, in his arms. So… he wanted to… sort of test the other part… was he actually attracted to him? Could he be attracted to a man? He hadn’t ever really thought about it. Sure… whenever he had his… alone time… watching himself always heightened the experience. But… what about another man? He was open to it… at least for him he was. Granted, testing it could probably end up being rather cruel and selfish but… well, how the hell was he to know? So… he gave him the slightest of kisses, right there on the side of his neck. The skin was… softer than he thought it would be. That single moment had his pulse kick up more than a little bit. His hand on the back of his neck was steady even as Justice flinched away… and the look he gave was nervous and unsure but… he didn’t feel any aversion. He searched the sea of emotions that was currently crashing around inside of him and found plenty of reasons to pull away… but he also found anticipation, interest, curiosity, and the hints of attraction. So, Carver took a shallow breath and kissed him properly, right on the lips… as he would any lover. He found his lips full and inviting… but he didn’t seek anything more, nor did he feel rushed. And… his heart skipped a beat and damned if his body didn’t respond, figuratively standing up and taking notice, as if it had been sleeping all these years.

Justice felt his muscles continue to tremble as his hands on his back started to pull him away… the tendons in his neck flexing as he tried to lean away but he felt the firm hand on the back of his neck. He was terrified… he didn’t know what he was doing… why he was doing this to him. His brows pitched outward, showing his fear… he knew he could get away if he truly wanted to. It was the most bizarre thing… he was scared to stay but didn’t want to move. Then, there was the kiss. He felt it go right through to his heart… he took a sharp breath in through his nose as his eyes closed tight, the muscles in his jaw tightening as his hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, pulling it tight. His body flooding with warmth as his mind hummed. He pulled away from the kiss… finding himself already breathless, his heart pounding, his stomach doing flips… he ran a hand between them and settled it on his cheek, searching his eyes before he kissed him in earnest, stepping into him without thought, his tongue brushing over his lips until he opened them just enough for him to push past them, running on this body’s instinct, fueled by his own longing and desires.

Carver had never had _anyone_ respond so… intensely to a simple kiss, it was as if his body fed off of it. He licked his lips once Justice pulled away, feeling his hand on his face had him leaning into it. He was stunned to his bones at how much he wanted to feel that simple touch, how much he had been longing for it. But when Justice kissed _him_ , he damn near stumbled backwards for the feeling of it… he stepped into him and Carver pulled him against him at the same time, the near desperation caught him completely off guard… and the way he deepened the kiss and how he ran his tongue along his own, had his eyes closing on their own as he swayed, his hand on the back of his neck tightening, flexing as he kept him to him, pivoting around, changing sides as he sought more, his own body roaring with desire. There was no question at all… he was completely turned on. His hand on Justice’s back traveled down without a thought, grabbing at the loose fabric of his shirt and jeans just over his tailbone as he pulled him against him. He realized for the first time that while he had put on some weight since he’d taken over this body, he was naturally lean and slender, Carver having a good fifty pounds on him… and being the same height as he, it was as if they just fit.

Justice was quickly losing touch with reality as he kissed him, feeling Carver’s desire and his hands pulling at him had him quickly growing far too aroused. His boxers and jeans were rapidly becoming restricting, he had to break the kiss and gasp for air. He cradled his chin, panting as he looked at him. “I would take to you to my room if you would let me.” He breathed between them, he swallowed roughly as he felt his muscles shake as he settled his other hand in the dip of Carver’s lower back.

Carver was likewise breathing heavily. His groin tighten as he felt Justice harden against him. He saw the want in the man’s eyes and was taken aback by his words… and how his voice seemed to be deeper in the quiet space between them. He felt him trembling and yet, the steady hand he held against his back. Carver cleared his throat and felt his cheeks grow red. “I would… but… I…” He felt the heat grow over his nose. “I’ve never been with a man… I don’t know what to do.” He gave a nervous laugh at the end, a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth to match.

Justice softened his gaze at him… that blush only served to make the man more attractive. He kissed him softly but for only a moment, running the back of his fingers along his jaw. “Well… I have never been anyone.” He settled his hand on his chest. “But this body remembers… and there are memories. I… would like to take things in this area… gently.” He felt his own cheeks grow warm. “For tonight, I just want to touch you.” He rolled his lower lip in and wet it at the same time, the thought alone having that restriction become more uncomfortable.

Carver blinked at the man’s words. He realized that… it was true. _Justice_ had never been with anyone… he took a deep breath with his words though, finding the man’s blush warm his heart. But those last words and the man’s reaction to them? Damned if that didn’t have him looking at him all the more intently. He stepped away with a subtle nod and walked back into the house, feeling Justice right behind him… it was an odd sensation. It was as if he was too nervous to look behind him yet wanted to if only to see the look on Justice’s face. He heard the door shut behind them and the locks slide home. He felt the familiar fissure of energy flow over the house, knowing that Justice had thrown up the protective shield as he did every night. Carver climbed the stairs… feeling as though he was walking in slow motion when he turned right instead of left… and walked through Justice’s door. The entire time, it was as if he heard nothing else but the beat of his own heart, the sound of his own breathing, and the sound their steps made on the floor; his bare feet and Justice’s boots.

Justice followed close behind him… feeling as though his mind was saturated with that hum. His eyes fixed and focused, his movements controlled and stiff. Each step taken was closer to his undoing, he was sure of it… and he didn’t care. Was this what attraction was? Was this how it felt for Marian when she went to Varric all those years ago? Was this… love? Dare he think that? When he stepped over the threshold into his room, it was as if he was in another world, he reached behind him and caught the edge of the door with his fingers, giving it a push and sending it closed.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Rings Bells like the town crier- Smut!! Smut in this chapter!!! Watch out for the NC17 smut!!

Varric watched anxiously as bird after creepy freaking bird returned to Skyhold, he had no way of knowing which one was the one he sent out. The not knowing was starting to get to him and it showed, in the clipped way he was speaking to everyone… and the way he was practically chain smoking whenever the Inquisitor wasn’t dragging him out into the field. Damned if he wasn’t sore as hell… _too old for this shit, Tethras… too old._ Which, wasn’t true… but it sure as hell fell like it most nights. Though… it wasn’t _all_ bad. But it damn sure wasn’t good. The people that had gathered here… well, it was an interesting mix, that was for sure. When he first came face to face with Cullen on the way from Kirkwall, it had surprised him to see the man out of Templar armor.

Cullen had been just as surprised to see Varric, especially in the state he had been in. Cullen had shot an angry look at the Seeker over Varric’s black eye and split lip… questioning loudly why the _hell_ he was in that condition. The Seeker had shied away from the question, which only served to anger Cullen further. Cullen had shoved his way over to the dwarf and offered him a poultice, knowing that an ERP would be useless. When Varric sneered at him, Cullen sighed heavily. _Take it, Varric… you need it._ Perhaps it was his tone or… a familiar face, whichever the case, Varric had accepted it. Then, later at Haven, the Seeker had approached Cullen and asked him about the head of house Tethras, and what he knew of him.

 _To be honest… not much._ Cullen answered truthfully as he glanced over to where Varric sat before a fire. _And what I do know would be useless now_. The Seeker had been confused by that statement and had voiced as much. Cullen just shook his head at her. _He’s a much different dwarf than the one he was in Kirkwall… back then, he’d be in the Tavern, telling his stories… making friends of everyone. Now…_ Cullen sighed heavily as he looked on, noting how Varric’s hands were clasped before him so tightly the white of his knuckles shone, how his brow seemed to be permanently set low, and his voice held an edge to it that it hadn’t before. _He’s grown so angry._ The last was said quietly to the Seeker. _I don’t know if it has anything to do with the fall of Kirkwall… or where he’s been these last few years… or if it simply that you and your people forced him to come here_. The Seeker voiced, for the hundredth time, her reasoning for interrogating the dwarf only for Cullen to hold his hand up to her. _Be that as it may… I have to wonder if we haven’t been unfair to him in assuming that he had nowhere to be… and that no one might be missing him_. The Seeker had blinked at him… and it was obvious that it had never occurred to her that Varric might have people that were out there looking for him. The day that Cullen had seen him as such, hadn’t been a good day for him at all. Bjorn had turned three that day.

Since they’d all arrived at Skyhold, the Seeker had attempted to speak civilly with Varric, only to be shunned… if he was feeling kind. If he wasn’t? Well… the Seeker learned that as eloquent as he could be with his written word, he could be just as cruel with his spoken ones, the malice she heard from him always took her by surprise. Yet… she continued to try and ease the tensions between them. If only for the Inquisitor’s sake.

The Inquisitor found himself being drawn to the dwarf, seeking his advice on certain areas… such as red lyrium. Something Varric knew quite a bit about… though he obviously didn’t care for the topic nor the mineral. And Varric was open with his information… well, _most_ of his information. Not a single time did he let anything at all slip. As it had been said… he was a damn good liar. And Varric respected the Inquisitor… he was an honorable man. But some of the Inquisitor’s chosen allies did make Varric question his sanity from time to time… the known Qunari, the Iron Bull. The common thief and all around trouble maker, Sera… the Tevinter not-Magister, Dorian. They all made him a little nervous, but he kept the façade of comfort around them all. Yet there was one that insisted on damn near following him around almost all the time. The boy spirit, Cole. And it was dangerous… for Cole appeared to have no filter, no concept of discretion.

A few nights after, they were all sitting in the great hall… Varric before the fire, no more than eight feet from the long table where the Inquisitor, the Seeker, the Commander, the Advisor, Dorian, the Iron Bull, Blackwall, Solas, and Cole all sat. Varric was lounging in the massive dwarven chair that had been found in the hold, a leg thrown over one of the wide arms of the chair while he had a book in his hands, the picture of his family tucked into the binding as he just stared at it as opposed to reading. He was missing them something fierce, he felt as though his chest was being torn open. Cole was sitting beside Solas and just… staring at Varric.

Solas glanced up and noticed Cole’s intent stare. “Cole… it is impolite to stare.”

Cole blinked but could not look away, his brows pitched outward as he felt Varric’s sadness. “But he hurts… the song inside him barely sings for how much he longs to see the bird and bear. He feels broken, shattered, tiny pieces on the floor like the picture frame inside the bag. He reaches down by his side to feel the fur but the dog is gone, taken by the one who asked too many questions. Regrets like chains, his hurt an anchor that pulls him down. The walls of stone are a cage, keeping him away, he wants to be free, to run back to—“ Cole jerked as he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts, he looked up into Varric’s guarded gaze.

“That’s enough, kid.” Varric’s rough voice barely above a whisper, the book held shut at his side. He gave him a firm nod and didn’t look at any of the others before he walked away, snatching his coat off ‘his’ table and disappearing out the massive front doors to take a walk, clear his head… and get some fresh air.

Solas had been enthralled by Cole’s words… the spirit’s way of speaking never ceasing to amaze him. The others had grown quiet... all getting the very clear impression that they were being given a forbidden look into the dwarf’s mind. The Seeker kept her eyes on the table, she didn’t like the boy spirit and even less now did she care for him. She didn’t need to be reminded of what her people had done. At the time, she thought it wrong but not… a major deal. Only when Cullen heard of it did she understand. Cullen, being Ferelden himself, had reprimanded her people even before he had any station of Command. He was beyond angry… he was offended and he acted as though they had killed a creature that was sacred. He explained that the mabari _were_ sacred to his countrymen. Though she countered that Varric wasn’t from Ferelden, Cullen was quick to snap back at her that _if_ a mabari was with him and defended him, then that mabari had chosen him… and that bond was unbreakable and held in the highest sanctity. That, in fact, her people had basically murdered that dwarf’s closest friend… comrade… brother. And then they had left him in the street like a piece of trash. The rest of the people at the table all just stared at Cole and none were aware that Varric had even walked up until Cole looked up at him. They likewise just… stared at him. All surprised… he seemed so… calm all the time, so collected and easygoing, except towards the Seeker. Once he left, the Bull turned back around with low brows and wondered aloud. “Who is the bird and bear?” Cole… would not answer. Cullen instead replied. “Who knows… it truly could be anything… a place, animals themselves, buildings… dwarves are odd and _spirits even more so_.” He ground out. “We would all do well to act as though we heard nothing. Those were obviously private thoughts.”

Solas nodded. “True… many dwarven outposts, even on the surface have names after animals of great strength and agility.” And Solas fell into a lengthy explanation of a Thiag that he had heard of, way in the Anderfels, that was often referred to as nothing more than _The Boar._ Cole listened… but knew they were all wrong in their speculations… he did not correct them.

Varric made his way quickly down the stairs, cursing under his breath as he pulled his coat on and stuffed the small book in the inside pocket. Pulling the coat around him as he rounded the bottom and took even more stairs… aiming for gate… where he had been going every night since they arrived. He was pulling on his gloves as he passed under the wide wall and into shadow when he heard a familiar voice that stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away.

Marian had only arrived a few minutes earlier, having scouted in the surrounding mountains until nightfall. She knew she must still be careful… she had changed once she hit the Frostbacks, her thick leathers a godsend in her mind. The fur lined vest over her thermal, all leather and all doing great things so she didn’t have to keep her magic going… never could be too careful. And her trusty duster, pulled on but left open for agility. Her pack on her shoulder and the hood of the vest, fur lined as well, pulled up and over, allowing a shadow to fall over her face. She had made her way down the long bridge amongst the waves of heat, silent and unseen until she reached the gate, tucking into the shadows as she looked at the massive hold, trying to figure out her next move when damned if he didn’t just come walking right up. She couldn’t help the smirk that played on her nearly chapped lips. “You know… that has _got_ to be… the _longest_ week… in history.”

Varric turned and saw her standing there in the shadows, his steps were slow for how badly he wanted her to truly be there. “Tell me that’s really you. Maker, I need it to be.” He felt the tremble in his chest as he drew nearer and reached a still naked hand for her face, tucking it in between the fur and her cheek as he took a deep breath finally, pulling her to him as he stepped deeper into the darkness of the shadows, his arms around her in a fierce embrace.

Marian’s smirk went into a full blow smile at his words and her own chin did that sissy tremble on its own at the hand on her cheek. She couldn’t hold him tight enough as he backed them into the shadows further. Her entire body seemed to shake as she tried holding all the tighter. “Damn you, Tethras. I was worried so.” Her voice cut out for how low she held it and for the emotion that tightened her throat.

Varric’s eyes closed tightly at her words, she only ever called him _Tethras_ when she was truly angry with him. But he heard no anger in her voice… only relief and unshed tears. He took a deep breath and nodded against her. “Mare, I am so sorry… I should have never left.” That single regret pulled at him above all others. He leaned back and ran his fingers over her cheek, still convincing himself that she was here in his arms. “I wanted so badly to run, to go back home… but I didn’t dare lead them to all of you.” His chin shook as he kissed her, closed lipped but meaningful, taking a deep breath through his nose as his arm around her tensed.

Marian looked up as she shook her head slightly, then his fingers were on her. She saw the pain his eyes… the regret. She nodded before he kissed her… a tear escaped from the relief she felt of just having him in her arms again. “I figured as much.” She sniffed as she pulled away and took hold of his hand, stepping towards the outside world, when he didn’t follow she looked over her shoulder sharply with a confused look. “Varric, let’s go?”

Varric’s look was… foreboding, and he knew it. “We can’t go yet… come on.” He pulled her back towards him but released her hand as she walked along side him, he led her up the stairs and around the battlements, aiming for the side door that would eventually lead to his quarters, speaking low to her on the way. “The breach, the explosion at the Temple… all of it is because of Corypheus.” When she looked at him sharply he nodded. “The very same douche bag that we fought and killed, though… apparently not as dead as we thought.” He watched the storm roll in those eyes of hers as she stared ahead of her. “The Inquisitor is… an honorable man, he’s trying to fix all of it, truly. I think you should talk to him in the morning… maybe you can give him some insight that I cannot, I don’t know but… anything can help. Then, we’ll go.”

Marian was confused but then… she wasn’t. The name rolled over her in a wave of disgust and bad fucking memories. That creature had been… well, it was something she’d rather forget, even if it had given her answers as to why her father had received gifts from the Wardens. Still… the thought that she had failed? That… he was the cause of all of this destruction? It weighed heavily on her. She nodded to him as they walked down a narrow corridor. “I will. I don’t know what I can offer but… maybe some small detail can help?” She gave him a highbrowed shrug before he unlocked a door that she could only assume was his… he led her inside and shut it tightly behind her.

Varric nodded in agreement with her before he let her into his quarters… they weren’t much, sparsely furnished… a bed, a trunk, a basic desk and chair, a single oil lamp, and a hearth with a low burning fire to combat the cold, no windows and only the single door. That was it. The room wasn’t large and it damn sure wasn’t opulent. But he hadn’t cared then and he damn sure didn’t care now, he wasn’t going to be here much longer. The door lock was so old that he had to use the key to lock it, even from the inside, which he did. He glanced over at her as he saw her setting her pack down on the floor by the damn near empty trunk followed by her coat. He fumbled with the key for a few seconds before finally turning it over and hearing the heavy bolt slide home, he left the key there as he took the few short strides over to her, his coat being dumped on the floor on the way. He came up behind her just as she pulled her vest off and was about to drop it on top of her coat, one arm slid around her and up her body, immediately taking hold of one of her breasts, lifting it as his other hand grabbed her hip, pulling her against him as he latched onto her neck. The moment he shut the door, his body had roared to life. For nearly seven months he’d been away from her… for nearly seven months his body had longed for hers just as he had longed for her. He was on her so quickly that she nearly lost her balance, having to catch herself as she took hold of the footboard, inadvertently providing him with a position that went right up his spine and slammed into the back of his mind, pulling a growl from him as he ground himself against her rear. She had gasped when he took hold of her, again when she felt him against her, her body responding almost violently for how much she had missed him as well, her center growing slick from that one move alone. He was hard, his length pained and needy, the hand he had on her hip he moved around and reached for her, even through her jeans he could feel the heat coming from her center as he pressed against her, he dropped his head, his brow resting against her shoulder as he couldn’t stop himself from mimicking the act for how eager his body was. He knew this was one of those times… the rare times when he was… too worked up, the separation had been hell on him for a few reasons, this was the least of those reasons but it was still very much a reason. He pulled her back up to him, his hand on her breast feeling how her body reacted, the way she reached for his hips and moved against him shamelessly had the end of him weeping from her attentions. He nipped at her shoulder as he pulled up the hem of her thermal, raising it up over her breasts as he covered them both, the moan she gave him was music. His gravel filled voice cut out for how he trembled around her. “Now…” He ravished the side of her neck, her heavy breathing encouraging him as he felt her hands leave him, her belt come lose and he felt her jeans sliding down between them. It only had his pride jerking, his length ached for how hard he was… he felt her hands between them, he felt his jeans grow loose around his waist as he reached for her. His breath leaving him as he slid a finger between her folds, finding her swollen and wet… just as he felt her part his jeans, his length freed on its own had him immediately stand up straighter, his hand leaving her breast to press on her back, pitching her forward so that she held fast to the footboard, his hand between her legs gave her a lasting caress before he took his pained length in hand and guided himself to her. His heart was slamming in his chest as he felt the need overthrowing his desire to savor her, the want spurring him deep as he hissed loudly at the feeling of her heat, he shook his head sharply as she pressed against him, desperate in her actions… the sound she made from that single touch alone didn’t help to clear his head or ease the drumming in his veins. He held fast to her shoulder as he drove himself into her, throwing his head back as he gripped her around the hip and groaned loudly, her moan filling the air along with his. He did not wait for her body to ease its sudden grip on him, he immediately began bucking against her, his muscles taught for the actions, his mind saturated with domination, a territoriality that rarely came forth from him but was in full control of his actions now. He reached around her, his fingers sliding against her folds as he moved, his chin pitching towards his chest as he grew harder from that feeling alone… he found the spot he knew all too well and the trailing moan she gave had him toying with it in time with his thrusts. Somewhere in his mind he knew he should slow, he should calm himself at least some… but he couldn’t. The sounds of their bodies slamming against each other coupled with the way their breaths sawed in and out of them, the sounds she was making for him had him determined far more than he’d been in many years. His gravel filled voice began uttering affirmations to her, demands that she give him her release, that she coat him… and damned if she didn’t listen to him. Her body went tense around him as she threw her head back, screaming out his name as she doused him, the smile that crept up his face was nothing short of masculine satisfaction… it was quickly pushed aside as he came without warning, his orgasm gripping him as she still pulsed around him… he growled low and rocked against her, his hands on her hips far tighter than they should be as he felt himself empty into her, _dwarva_ leapt from his lips as he continued to drive himself into her, his legs trembling as he pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms around her… needing to feel her against him completely. He ran a hand down her face and growled when she suckled on his finger, nipping at the pad of his thumb. He tried to clear his head… knowing well that he should. But then she stepped away from him… he withdrew with a gasp, his length still plenty hard. She turned in his arms and captured his lips, a kiss that had his hands roaming her back and reaching for her rear, grabbing her tightly and picking her up as her legs went around his waist, her hands on his face as she kissed him blind… at least it felt like it. He fell onto the bed with her, he needed only to shift and he was back inside of her, bracing his weight on his hands as he hoisted himself up, his pupils nearly eclipsing his irises as he broke into a rhythm that was just as needy as before… it reminded him of the first time… the way she pulled at him, how she moved beneath him… all of it only jacked him up more. He reached for the headboard, gripping the wood tightly as he used it for leverage, his boot slammed down on the footboard, the wood creaking as he used it as well, sweat covered his body as his bangs fell in his eyes, he felt this… determination inside of him that was… well, it’d been a long time since he’d felt it. And damned if those words of old didn’t keep pouring out of him… and the way Marian was looking up at him, her eyes aglow, how she shined for him… she understood his words, he had taught her along with their son. Things that used to matter so little to him about his heritage, suddenly mattered so much once Bjorn was born. He drove her to the edge many more times that night… and joined her each time. And each time was just as needy as the time before… it was a wonder they got any sleep at all.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I moved a few things around here but yeah.

The next day… Varric led the Inquisitor to the battlements to meet _The Champion of Kirkwall_. It was bizarre, playing these roles again. Acting as though they were nothing more than friends, especially when he still had a slight limp from the night before.

“Are you alright, Varric?” Robert, the Inquisitor, questioned as they walked along the battlements. He’d noticed the slight limp… it wasn’t there yesterday and he’d been concerned about the dwarf since last night’s Cole experience.

Varric cut his eyes away and felt the heat creeping up the sides of his neck, clearing his throat he nodded. “Yeah… of course.” He gestured ahead of them as he led the man down to an out of the way sort of alcove, as if it had been built for secret meetings.

Robert narrowed his eyes at him… yeah… sure. But he didn’t push it, let the man have his secrets. “So… who have you drug me out here to meet?”

Varric smirked as he turned around, glancing up the stairs they had just come down. “Inquisitor… allow me to introduce the Champion of Kirkwall… Hawke.” He gestured to her.

Marian wore… pretty much the same thing she had worn when she had arrived, though her hood was down. She strolled down the stairs with a bit of a cocky gait… as she always did. “Though… I don’t use that title much anymore.” She smirked at Varric before focusing on the Inquisitor.

Robert turned around quickly at Varric’s words and was… stunned silent. Not only was he being introduced to the freaking Champion of Kirkwall… the one who started the mage rebellion… _and_ a powerful mage in her own right. But… she was a beautiful woman. Oh, he’d read Varric’s tale of the Champion but he always assumed that the dwarf had embellished just about every damn thing, including looks. Robert couldn’t help but let his eyes flow over her as she walked up to him. And those eyes? Damn… he stood a bit straighter, squaring his shoulders… all unknowingly of course. He held his hand out to her. “Robert Trevelyan.”

Marian raised an uninviting brow at the way this man was looking at her but she took his hand anyway… manners and all that. “Marian Hawke.” She gave a slight dip of her head in return.

Robert bowed, lifting her hand to his lips and brushing them over her knuckles. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Hawke.” He looked at her from under his brows before he released her hand and straightened.

Marian’s brows went high as she stared at him… and pulled her hand back, wiping the back of it down her coat, giving a bit of a silent snort. “Right. Sure.” She shook her head and fished out a hand rolled and was about to light it when… she heard the metallic flick and couldn’t help but smirk. Varric’s lighter held up to her and she dutifully lit her cigarette before leaning away and exhaling. “So… Corypheus. Nasty little cockroach, huh?”

Varric felt this overwhelming need to slam the Inquisitor’s face into the stone floor… but he didn’t. He did see red at that introduction though and so naturally, he lit her smoke for her… a silent yet purposeful intrusion. He winked at Marian discretely before stepping away, lighting his own hand rolled and leaning against the low stone wall, there… but not there.

Robert raised his brows at her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, to put it lightly, which I wouldn’t.” Robert wasn’t exactly the joking type. He took all of this seriously and… would rather she did as well.

Marian ran her tongue along the inside of her lower lip, her mouth still closed when she did the action. She took a shallow breath before taking a drag off her cigarette, exhaling out of her nose. “Yeah well… I would.” She gave him a snarky grin before continuing. “We found him in a warden fortress… don’t ask how, it won’t help your cause. Anyway, he had been imprisoned as opposed to killed. Now we know why.” She flicked some ashes into the wind before continuing. “He was bound using blood magic, it was… distasteful. We broke the locks… to kill him. He had been controlling this group of carta dwarves, somehow… he was controlling their minds through darkspawn blood. When we cut him loose, so we could kill him, he… had no idea what a darkspawn even was. He kept yelling about some freaking Dumat guy and he got _really_ pissed off when he figured out that we weren’t fellow priests, whatever the hell that meant. He had all the magic of an emissary and then some. He was powerful, it took a long time, he yelled a lot of very naughty things, and eventually we killed him. And I don’t mean we _thought_ he was dead… and we just kind of walked off… thinking _go team_ … no. He was fucking dead. Multiple stab wounds, dislocated head… dead. Fucking dead.”

Robert narrowed his eyes at her but couldn’t help the smirk, damn she had spunk. He listened to her rather colorful account of her experience with Corypheus and shook his head. “Apparently not.” He tacked on before he could recall the comment.

Marian gave a thoughtful nod in return. “Yeah… well, shoot me in the fucking head for not realizing that if you decapitate someone… that… ya know, that might not actually kill them.” She gave a sarcastic shrug to match the sass in her words. “Yeah, my bad on that one.” She flicked what was left of her hand rolled over the low stone wall, giving the Inquisitor a raised brow as if daring him to counter her again.

Robert couldn’t help but give a bit of a laugh. “Seems to be the running theme lately.” He shook his head and took a deep breath, rubbing at his temple. “Between the Mages and Templars… it’s been…”

Marian rolled her eyes at the thought alone. “Ah yes… the Mage Hell Spiral.” She gave her own chuckle at him. “Nothing changes. Templars say _evil mage will destroy us all!_ Mages say _we deserve freedom!_ And all along the Chantry sits idly by and points a finger at anyone but themselves.” She did impressions for the Templars and Mages, shaking her head at the end. “A bit of advice, Bobby…”

Robert’s brows went high at her relation to his plight. He couldn’t help but soften his gaze at her use of a childhood nickname for him. “I’m all ears.” He didn’t chase away the gentleness in his voice either.

Marian elected to ignore the goo goo eye attitude she was getting from him. “Either way you go, you’re going to piss people off. There’s no right choice here. There never was… people are always going to say you did something wrong, you… chose wrong. Take me.” She held her hands out as she pivoted slightly. “People say I _started_ the mage rebellion, when nothing could be further from the truth.”

Robert’s brows shifted at that. “What? But…”

Marian smirked and pointed at him. “Ah see. Even you think that when you have not one, but _two_ people here that _were there_. That know exactly what happened. All I did was stand against the insanity of a tyrant to protect truly innocent people. A single person was responsible for what happened in Kirkwall yet the Knight Commander elected to invoke the rite of annulment, even though the guilty party stood no more than ten feet from her. She _chose_ to condemn each and every mage in Kirkwall for what _he_ and he alone did. I cannot think of anyone who would have stood in my place and not done what I did. Mages or not… they were innocent and did not deserve to die for the deluded actions of a madman.”

Robert blinked at her response. He… he didn’t even think… well, why would he. The common knowledge had always been that Hawke incited the mage rebellion. But to hear her words… and then to think that he never even thought to ask Varric… or Cullen, the two people that had been around for months, both of whom that knew exactly what had happened… he felt the shame cut deep. “Then… I owe you my humble apology, Lady Hawke.” He bowed deeply to her with his words.

Marian made a face and looked away. “Eh…. Save your apologies, I don’t regret anything.” She looked pointedly at Varric before Robert stood back up, he being none the wiser for the tender way she had looked at the dwarf.

Robert simply nodded. “So, Corypheus and Wardens… this doesn’t bode well. I must speak with my advisors, please… stay on, you are more than welcome here.”

Marian gave him a sort of head tilting nod before he left, she glanced over her shoulder at him… making sure he was well out of earshot before she looked back at Varric and gave an all over body shudder. “That guy creeps me out.”

Varric shook his head at her, having felt honored at the words she had said… the look she had given him was returned… and now he couldn’t help but kick his chin up in the Inquisitor’s fading direction. “He was damn close to picking his teeth up off the ground, looking at you like that.” He shook his head as he took a deep breath, trying to ease that territoriality streak that had apparently grown tenfold in the years that they’d been living in the mountains.

Marian raised a brow at him. “Oh… Varric… you almost sound… jealous.” Her tone teasing.

Varric gave her a firm look, not angry nor anything as such before he spoke simply. “Not jealous… but what’s mine is mine… simple as that.”

Marian gave him a heated look before turning and climbing the stairs, Varric feeling the shudder go down his spine before he followed. They found themselves walking with Cullen, since he was heading for the great hall anyway. Varric had gone on ahead of them, wanting to _make sure the bitch wasn’t around_.

Cullen shook his head after him before he looked back at Hawke. “I’m pleased to see you well, Champion.”

Marian raised her brows at Varric’s comment, she hadn’t heard him speak about anyone like that… ever. “Who…” Then Cullen’s comment came and she dutifully nodded to him. “You too, Cullen… nice to see you clear.”

Cullen was poised to answer her but her words came to him and he looked at her quietly, he swallowed and gave a slow nod to her. “He speaks of the Seeker, Cassandra… Right Hand of the Divine. She was the one who… captured him in Kirkwall.” Cullen watched as Marian’s pupils shined, her magic apparent… he often wondered how he and all of Kirkwall’s Templars really had been fooled so easily by her. He aimed to change the subject. “How fairs Carver?”

Marian felt her anger flare… for a couple of reasons. She felt the tremble beneath her skin as they climbed the stairs. _Easy, Mare… don’t do anything stupid._ His question caught her attention. “He’s fine. I think it was easier for his body to let go since he hadn’t been a Templar for very long.”

Cullen raised his brows at her. “He no longer serves?”

Marian shook her head at him. “No, he left the order that day and hasn’t looked back. He said he couldn’t be a part of it… that when Meredith called for the rite… it wasn’t that she was insane, he knew that… but it was the fact that… he was the only one who questioned it. He said he could no longer see how that served the Maker, that he didn’t sign up to be a murderer.” She was so distracted that she didn’t hear the yelling at first as they crested the stairs and headed into the main hall.

Cullen heard her words far more closely than he thought he would. He had known Carver better than he knew Marian, but only just. The young man apparently had a good head on his shoulders, having come to a conclusion that Cullen had taken years to. Though the reasons were different… his brows drew low as the yelling caught his attention.

“You knew where Hawke was all along!” Cassandra charged at Varric, taking hold of the collar of his coat, jerking him towards her, in view of damn near everyone, she didn’t care… she was beyond pissed.

Varric dug his boots into the carpet, throwing his arms between hers and out, breaking the hold with a strength that he saw surprised her. “You’re damned right I did!” He barked back, trying to calm himself… _don’t hit her, Tethras, don’t do it… because if you do, you won’t be able to fucking stop._

Cassandra lunged for him, taking a swing. “You conniving little shit!”

Varric ducked and leapt backwards. “You kidnapped me! Your people killed my fucking dog! What the fuck did you expect?!” His voice boomed out of him for the anger he felt.

Cassandra growled as she drew her sword, lunging for him again only to find herself thrown back, a gasp rippling through the crowd that had formed. She leapt to her feet and looked at her attacker…

Marian had worked through the forming crowd, hearing Varric’s angry voice. She had just broke through, Cullen coming up behind her when she saw the woman draw her sword and lunge… she didn’t even think twice. She fade stepped in a series of building pressures, gathering the energy out of the oxygen along her path, super heating it along the way, sending it all into the woman as she skidded to a stop in front of Varric, her hands out and one holding up a gyrating fireball that was only growing hotter, her eyes going all black as the skin around her face crackled with embers for the intense emotion simply seeing him in danger invoked in her. Thus was just a mere taste of the power of a Pyromancer. The crowd all gasped and surged away from them. Marian’s voice came out dark when she spoke around clinched teeth. “You dare!”

Cassandra, like many others, recognized the Champion from aging photos of long ago celebratory postings. And… like many others, she knew that Hawke was a mage… but… again, like many others, and no doubt thanks to Varric’s lies, she did _not_ know that Hawke was a pyromancer. The appearance was jarring as was the rising temperature in the room. She held her sword out ahead of her, her own gifts surging forward. “Calm yourself, Champion!” She heard the pitch in her voice and cursed herself for how it belittled her commanding tone as she drew closer to her, no more than a foot past the end of her sword.

One moment Varric’s thought was _bring it on, bitch! Give me a fucking reason!_ And the next was _holy shit!_ He felt the wall of heat blast past him and then Marian was in front of him. He looked at the Seeker and saw the way she was preparing herself… _oh hell no_. He rushed up beside Marian and settled his hand on her arm. “Hawke… Mare?” When she glanced at him, he nodded at her… saying much more with his eyes than he did with his words. “Rock steady over here.”

Marian was about two seconds away from lighting that bitch up before Varric was beside her. She looked at him and saw it in his eyes… him pleading with her to not… for fear over her safety. She nodded to him and looked back at the Seeker, purposefully holding her eye as she silenced her magic with a focus and control that always surprised those who thought they knew all about Mages. She jabbed a finger at the woman. “I want you to remember this moment…” She gave her a highbrow look. “The way it could have gone but didn’t.”

Cassandra looked at Varric with wide eyes as he just… walked right up to this Mage, with no fear at all. The look that passed between them spoke volumes to their friendship. She watched as Hawke’s magic just rolled back into her as if it had never been there at all. No wonder so few people knew exactly what kind of mage she was… no wonder she had been an apostate for so long without the Templars even knowing! She had an unnerving control over her magic that Cassandra wasn’t sure if it made her feel better… or worse. Her words rolled over her as she sheathed her sword. She cleared her throat. “Quite. Now that we are once again acting like civil people—“ She was immediately interrupted by a swift and surprisingly hard punch to her jaw, enough to cause her to stagger and to taste blood in her mouth. She covered it and heard the group around her gasp again, she looked back with a stunned look at Hawke.

Marian stood there, anger still snapping in her eyes, her hands still in fists. “That was for my mabari… you heartless bitch.” She jerked her arm out of Varric’s hold as she stared at the woman hard, daring her to retaliate. Suddenly Cullen stepped between them, his hands held out to both of them.

“Enough!” He looked between the Champion and the Seeker, though… he had to admit he agreed that the Seeker deserved _that_ punch. “This is not the time… we must all get past our differences and work together against this common enemy.” He looked pointedly at Hawke before gesturing towards the door that would lead them to the war room. “Go.”

Cassandra shook her head as she rubbed her cheek before she headed for the war room, hearing the Champion, Cullen, and Varric behind her. They burst through the door and into the war room where Leliana and the Inquisitor were already discussing something. Cassandra immediately turned on Varric again. “We needed someone, Varric, someone that could lead this Inquisition. First, we searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she was gone. Then we looked for Hawke… but she was gone too. We thought it all connected… but no. It was just _you_. _You_ kept her from us.”

Marian shook her head and walked over to one of the open windows, lighting up a hand rolled and taking a deep drag, blowing the bitter smoke out the window and pinching at the bridge of her nose. This Seeker, damn she was asking for another punch wasn’t she? Marian jerked slightly when she felt a gentle hand on her arm, she looked and gave a sort of laughing smirk at Leliana. “Hey Nightingale.” She whispered as the woman joined her by the window, the only greeting she got in return was a raised brow and a nod before the woman focused on Cassandra’s tirade.

Varric settled his hands on his hips and sucked on one of his molars, an audible sound coming forth as Cassandra ranted. “The Inquisition _has_ a leader.” He ground out, gesturing towards Robert… who had just been standing there with high brows.

Cassandra jabbed a finger in Hawke’s direction. “Hawke would have been at the conclave, if _anyone_ could have saved Most Holy…”

Robert’s brows went low as he shook his head. “Hey… Varric’s not responsible for what happened at the Conclave, Cassandra.”

Varric held a hand out in an exaggerated way as if to say _thank you!_ “I was protecting my friend!” He stalled between _my_ and _friend_ for only a split second, recovering so quick that no one even noticed.

Cassandra sneered at him. “Varric is a _liar_ , Inquisitor. A snake. Even _after_ the conclave when we needed Hawke the most, he kept her secret.”

Varric groaned before gesturing towards Marian as if displaying her. “She’s with us now! We’re on the same side here!”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him. “We all know who’s side you’re on, Varric. it will never be the Inquisition’s.”

Marian rolled her eyes, finding it increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut. Robert however, had no problem speaking. “Attacking him now won’t help us, Cassandra.”

Varric gave a firm nod. “Exactly.”

But Robert turned his ire towards Varric. “And _you_ better not be keeping _anything_ else from us.”

Varric let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine! I understand.” The lie came out as easy as it always did, like a hot knife through butter.

Cassandra felt her anger starting to ebb as she shook her head and turned away, going to the window on the other side of the room from Hawke, leaning against the window sill and taking a deep breath. “I must not think of what could have been. We have so much at stake. Go, Varric… just… go.” She dismissed him, no longer wishing to deal with any of this.

Varric looked at Robert and the man gave him an apologetic nod before Varric looked over at Hawke, who gave him a look that said she’d catch up with him as soon as she was done here. He shook his head and headed for the door, his hand still on the handle he pinned Cassandra with a viciously guarded look when she turned around to watch him go. “You know what I think? If Hawke had been at the conclave? She’d be dead too. You people have done enough to her…” He turned that look on the Inquisitor. “So keep her involvement to a minimum… before you get her killed.” He jerked the door open and slammed it behind him, not giving a fuck… or as Marian would have put it… behold his baron field of fucks.

Cassandra closed her eyes sharply with the door slamming before she looked over at Hawke… who was purposefully looking out the window and ignoring the lot of them. The Seeker sighed heavily before they all got down to work.

Marian told them of a contact she had in the Wardens… one that she _knew_ couldn’t possibly be corrupt or influenced by Corypheus. That night, after a lengthy discussion with Varric that involved both of them begrudgingly agreeing that they should see this through, at least until they could point the Inquisition in the right direction, she stood high on the Mage tower with Varric, sending out a call for a bird of her own. Varric smirked when a mountain hawk dove down from the sky above and landed on Marian’s leather clad arm… he watched on as Marian cooed to the bird, stroking its broad breast as she whispered to him. Varric tied the missive to his leg once Marian nodded for him to do so before she sent him on his way, knowing that he’d deliver the message post haste and without being detected.


	35. Chapter 35

Over the next two months, she sent word to her second cousin’s husband… keeping his identity a secret for good reason. When she heard back from him, his letter was less than comforting. She reported it to the Inquisitor. She was to meet with him in Crestwood… and wait for the Inquisitor. Apparently the Warden was on the run, hiding from his brothers. Her time at Skyhold was mostly uneventful… though she was given her own quarters, Varric never let her use them. He kept her in his each and every night, ensuring that he had her in his arms at night. Varric’s shadow, Cole… smiled wide when he saw Hawke, wrapping around her in a familiar hug as if he had known her for many years. Down in the Tavern, Varric roped the Bull and the Chargers into games of Wicked Grace with Marian and himself… all of them eventually roaring with laughter at the stories he told of their past exploits, Marian’s commentary, and just their own laughter, which was infectious.

Bull watched on and couldn’t believe this was the same dwarf he met in Haven. He was completely different… his broad grin grew even more when he looked at his friend, fine lines appearing around his eyes as he laughed deeply. And what a laugh! It carried well out of the tavern when he threw his head back and let it roar out of him. Bull was amazed at the two of them. If he didn’t know any better… he would have sworn that there was more than friendship there, but he didn’t see any looks of longing nor did they sneak any bashful gazes to one another, when their hands touched inadvertently, they didn’t linger… they acted just like.. really good friends. Bull liked Hawke immediately, even if she was a Mage. And Krem? Bull had to laugh at him… he was smitten like there was no tomorrow. Hell, even Bull could tell he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. It didn’t help when Varric talked the Champion into taking Mereda’s job for a song… Krem damn near fell out of his chair. And Bull had to admit… she was pretty damn good… and Varric was no pushover either, he handled Mereda’s guitar like a pro, and Bull was pretty damn sure he was used to strumming the strings. And Bull couldn’t help but tap out the rhythm that Hawke created… he did glance around though. He could see why so many had followed her… though he couldn’t connect the woman he saw singing before him with the woman he _knew_ had slain the Arishok that had been in Kirkwall.

Varric didn’t like it when Marian left for Crestwood alone… even less when the Inquisitor ignored his insistence that he accompany them to Crestwood. But when they all returned, he got an earful of what happened. And was even more insistent that he go with them to Adamant. Marian’s words to him in the quiet corner before the army left didn’t make him feel any better either.

“This is that last push, Varric. One of us has to stay safe…” Marian brushed some of his hair off his brow with a gentle look. She didn’t have to say why.

Varric took her hand in his and kissed her palm while holding her gaze. “ _You_ stay safe… and come back to me.” He added low before she just smiled at him and stepped away and out of the shadows… holding her hands out and giving him a cocky grin.

“You forget who you’re talking to!” She called out, just like old times. “I _always_ come back… I’m like a fungus.” She smirked before turning around and joining the Inquisitor.

Varric waved her off with a shake of his head. “Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled with a small smile before turning back into the main hall.


	36. Chapter 36

Five days later… across Thedas… Justice jerked awake, sitting up with a yell, reaching ahead of him, sweat covering his body, panting as fear dumped into him.

Carver startled awake beside him, sitting up and looking at him with a concerned look, settling a hand on his bare shoulder. “What is it?”

Justice trembled slightly as he looked over at Carver. “We have to go to Skyhold… now.” He threw the covers back and stood up, grabbing his jeans off the chair and pulling them on.

Carver likewise got up and started getting dressed though he felt no less confused. “What? Why?”

Justice shook his head sharply but looked at Carver after he pulled his thermal on, worry creasing his brow. “I can no longer sense Marian in this world…”

Carver tripped as he was trying to stuff his foot into a boot. “W.. what?!” He stood up quickly, his eyes wide with terror. “Is she… dead?”

Justice shook his head sharply. “I do not know… I do not think so but… we must travel now. Wake Bjorn, I will pack a bag.” Justice pulled his boots on and jerked open the closet, pulling out his sword and strapping it on before he pulled on the wool sweater that had an uneven hem on the bottom… the one that Marian had tried to knit last winter. He stopped and forced himself to take a steadying breath before he pulled on the long leather duster meant for traveling. He pulled out the worn leather pack and fished one out of Carver’s closet as well, though the room was mostly unused these days. He filled the bags with essentials, under clothes for Carver and himself and fresh clothes for Bjorn.

Carver felt the rattle of worry in his chest as he finished getting dressed; jeans, thermal, a leather vest and his father’s bomber jacket held in his hand. He pulled on a skull cap, also a gift from his sister, as he stomped down the stairs and went into Marian’s room, laying his hand on Bjorn’s back gently. Dawn was still a few hours away but the boy woke, groggily, but he didn’t fuss as Carver dressed him against the chill, he had just pulled on the knit cap that Marian had made for the boy when he heard the jeep roar to life outside. He picked the boy up in one arm and his broadsword in the other as Bjorn went limp against him, already falling back asleep. “All right, little bear… let’s head out.” He whispered as he doused the lamps and walked out of the room. Justice was back in the house, filling a crate with foodstuffs. “Get the lamps and don’t forget the fire.” He said as he passed the kitchen and stepped out the door. He jerked the door open on the jeep and eased Bjorn down into the back seat, noticing that Justice had not only made sure the canvas cover had been put on but he had also shifted the back seat forward on its tracks so there was no floorboard to speak of. He covered the boy with the furs that were already in the jeep. He took a deep breath before ducking back out just in time to see Justice walking out of the now darkened house, shutting the door behind him.

Justice turned the key, locking the door’s deadbolt before trotting down the steps and setting the crate into the back of the jeep, closing the rear door and looking back at the house, a wave of his hand and the shield went up. He climbed into the driver’s seat as Carver shut the passenger side door, easing himself inside. Justice glanced over his shoulder, seeing Bjorn sleeping soundly, the magic in this body flashed in his pupils as an almost invisible net went around the boy, securing that he not be jostled or thrown about. He sent a worried look to Carver before he slammed the vehicle in gear and sped away from their home, aiming for Skyhold. It’d take them nearly twenty days to get there if they took back roads… half that if they risked the Imperial Highway… which Justice did. The magic in this body aiding in their passage. Justice pulled on his powers as a spirit, leaning on them heavily the entire time… they did not need to stop for long periods, only to tend to Bjorn and their own personal needs. Other than that… they ate on the road… and Justice did not sleep, he drove through the nights… catching the tide just right to cross the Waking Sea to Lydes.

So on point where they in their timing that they actually got caught up in the Inquisition’s motorcade as they too returned from Adamant fortress, though none of the soldiers paid their jeep any mind. Their vehicles all being a mismatch of trucks and jeeps themselves.


	37. The Eight Year Long Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning... *I* can't even read this chapter without needing an entire box of tissues. Editing it was impossible, so it's rough.

Varric got up from his table as the Inquisitor and the man’s advisors and companions all entered the main hall, flooding in slowly and all looking thoroughly bruised, except for Vivienne, Solas, and himself… since they were the only ones who had stayed behind. He settled his hands on his hips as he shifted his weight, looking past people, through gaps in the procession, his brow drawing low when the Iron Bull walked through the door… and no one was behind him. He blinked as he walked out into the light from the massive door, looking out, kicking his head back on his neck slightly in minor confusion before turning and looking at the Inquisitor, noting that the group sort of milled about as Solas came out of his requiem to greet them. “Where’s Hawke?” It came out simply curious, a couple of explanations were going through his mind. She was still down by the garage, in the Tavern, in his quarters packing their things.

Robert cringed inwardly as he heard Varric. He looked at the Seeker before he turned and walked towards the dwarf, Cassandra not far behind… though they stopped about six feet from him. “Varric…” He began, his tone taking on the kind one heard when they were about to receive some really bad news. “We… ended up in the fade… and… it was chaotic…” Robert looked down at this hands, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, Varric.”

Varric blinked at how the Inquisitor was looking at him. He looked around and saw that… no one was actually looking at him except for Robert. Then he heard the way he said his name. Varric pinned him with a look that said _don’t you fucking say it…_ he felt his chest grow tight as he pinched his lips together. The explanation struggling to come out of the man… Varric took in a sharp breath and held it as he took a swaying step back, but didn’t complete it. “Hmm.” His graveled voice came from his throat as he rolled his lips, his brows going down. The apology coming at him… he just nodded his head and looked down at the carpet beneath his boots as he lifted an arm… his loose fist settling against the side of his bowed head as he breathed deeply through his nose, his jaw and chin trembling as his eyes started to sting and water. His other hand on his hip as he started to blink rapidly, shifting his weight… his eyes searching the crushed fibers on the floor as if there was an answer there. The hand he held up shifted, the heel of his palm, that hard spot just below his thumb pressed into his scalp… started to slowly bounce against it… as if he didn’t know what to do… his body didn’t know… his mind… couldn’t… his heart was instantly rebelling against the words that had just been seemingly flung at him without care.

Robert gave a pained expression as his companions all looked on… quietly watching Varric as he absorbed the news. Cassandra cleared her throat as she stepped up beside the Inquisitor. “Varric… I know Hawke was your friend—“ Her voice came gently but loud enough to be heard… yet she found herself interrupted by Varric’s rough tenor.

Varric felt the muscles around his chest and in his neck tensing with each ragged breath he was trying to take, as if they were having trouble remembering what they were built to do. He heard Cassandra and he had to correct her… he couldn’t let the lie stand anymore… not now. “Wife.” His voice was held low though… for the shock that was coursing through him.

Cassandra blinked rapidly as she looked around… the others looking between themselves… all wondering the same as she… if they had heard… what they thought they heard for how quiet the word had been. “What?” She said the word in the way that… she didn’t want to be right.

Varric looked up at her suddenly, his fists coming out in front of him as he yelled at her, his voice booming around him. “ _She was my wife_!” Tears fell on their own down his cheeks as his pain snapped in his eyes. He took a deep breath in through his mouth and his fists were on his crown as he took a step back, his expression turning to a mix of shock and agony before he turned around, closing his eyes as he tried to breath. His world was crumbling, it was all falling down around him. He couldn’t breathe, he could hardly think… his heart was shattering right there in his chest all while his mind couldn’t accept any of it.

Cassandra… the Inquisitor… hell, everyone all winced at his revelation. Cassandra however, covered her mouth and closed her eyes with the sudden sorrow she felt… especially watching his pain. She didn’t know why she turned into the freaking spokesman of the group but she lowered her hand. “Varric, we had no idea…”

Varric rounded at that, throwing his hands down and yelling at her further. “ _Would it have made a fucking difference_!?” He’d ended up next to the table he so often sat at… he hoisted up the smaller chair and flung it across the room… it shattered against the stone wall as he shouted the question. He took a few charging steps towards her, a finger pointed at her before he turned it on the Inquisitor as well. “ _I told you! I fucking told you_!” He looked back at Cassandra, feeling his hate well up inside of him. “ _This is why I kept her secret_!” He threw his hands out as he backed up the steps he had taken. “ _To keep her_ … s… safe.” He yelled the first three words but lost the volume on the third as his expression threatened to turn to sorrow. But he was far from done ranting, he pinned the Inquisitor with his vicious stare, shifting it between the two of them. “ _What the fuck am I supposed to do now_?!” He backed up another step as his breath left him again in a rush, his chin trembling as tears fell freely… his voice cracking when he said the next, the look on his face making it apparent that he was no longer talking to them. “How the hell am I gonna do this alone?” He shook his head as he turned towards the table, bracing his hands on the worn surface as he bowed his head, suddenly slapping at the stack of papers on it, sending them flying away from him. He looked over the worn wood as the sorrow threatened to overthrow him in earnest. “How am I gonna tell him?” He covered his face with a hand as he sank down, gripping the edge of the table as he seemed to fold in on himself. Suddenly Cole appeared beside him… looking up at the others before settling a hand on Varric’s back and immediately falling down beside him for the pain he felt from that single touch. Varric sniffled loudly, not giving a damn, he turned and looked at Cole, his face red and eyes just the same. “How am I gonna tell my son?” He took a ragged breath as he gave him a bit of a shrug and just… couldn’t anymore. He covered his face again with a hand, holding it over his eyes as he spread his fingers and let loose a scream that held all his pain, clawing at the rough wood of the edge of the table.

Cassandra felt her own tears gather as she witnessed his pain. Then as he seemed to… look so… lost. That one question had her fill with a profound sense of dread… _How am I gonna tell him?_ Cassandra prayed to the Maker that that… didn’t mean… what she thought it did. Only for her to hear him ask Cole… she covered her mouth and turned away, shaking her head as she wiped at her own eyes. Dorian frowned deeply as he had his arms wrapped around himself… Sera just sat in one of the chairs and looked at the floor… Blackwall leaned against the wall- grateful his beard hid the long face he wore. Vivienne heard from up on high and settled on her chaise… crying quietly lest her weakness be discovered. Solas stood in the doorway to his research quarters with a solemn look, his hands clasped before him. Josephine and Leliana held each other softly as they sniffled quietly. Cullen just had his head down… discretely rubbing at his eyes. Even the Iron Bull had to look up and blink a few times. Robert though… Robert stepped forward, his voice thick with compassion.

“We’ll get her back, Varric. We’ll… find a way. She… she got left in the fade… there’s no hope that she survived but… at least we can… bring her back or something.” He was desperate for an answer, he turned around and looked at his companions, his advisors. “Right? We can figure something out.”

Varric looked up at him with a blank look, wiping his face roughly… picking his shirt up and using it to dry himself and he stood up, almost stumbling. “Wait… she’s in the fade?” He cleared his throat before saying it again, louder and without missing words that had cut out on him.

Robert nodded. “It was insane, Varric… the fault is mine. I thought everyone had gotten through before the rift closed.”

Varric felt anger rise up in his throat like bile but he swallowed it down. He’d need his strength. “But she was alive the last time you saw her?”

Robert heard the foolish hope in the man’s voice. “Yes but Varric… to survive physically in the fade… it’s been _days_. No food, no water… she couldn’t have survived.”

Varric gave him a smug look. “You don’t know my wife. She’s alive.” He nodded, licking his lips and turning around, as if looking for something.

The companions all exchanged looks that said they knew otherwise… there was just no way. Robert stepped forward again. “Varric… I know this is difficult to understand but… it’s just not possible.”

Varric looked at him sharply. “Anything is possible. I can get her back.”

Robert sighed quietly. “We can figure out a way to… at least give you some peace.”

Varric shook his head at him. “No… I don’t want any of you near her ever again.” He looked at them all pointedly. “I can find my own way into the fade.”

Dorian walked up beside Robert, giving his friend a gentle look. “Varric… no offense but you’re a dwarf… what do you know of the fade.”

Varric gave the Tevinter a hard look. “More than you think I do. After all…” He looked pointedly at Cassandra. “I’m a damn good liar.” He looked around again, patting his pockets. “I need to send a letter.”

Robert looked confused. “How can you… Varric, getting into the fade is near impossible… Corypheus trying to do just that is what caused _all_ of this!”

Varric found a pencil on the table and snatched it, pulling a piece of paper to him. “Ah…” He held up a finger and pivoted, looking at Robert… feeling the urgency and hope settle in his chest. “But Corypheus was a _person_. I have a better way in…” He put the pencil to the paper before shaking his head at himself, feeling stupid for forgetting, but cutting himself some slack considering what he just went through and was still going through. He tossed the pencil away and stood up, turning around and taking a deep breath. “Justice?” His voice came out quietly.

Robert was even more confused, as was Dorian. Basically everyone else was just as befuddled… most had walked away, leaving them to continue their conversation, the only ones who remained were Robert, Cassandra, Dorian, Cullen, Solas, and of course, Cole. Robert looked at Dorian and each shrugged slightly as Varric just stood there… as if waiting for a reply. Solas stared at the dwarf with a low brow, wondering what he was up to. Cole took a deep metaphysical breath, stepping back slightly as he felt the air around them starting to shift. Cassandra looked at Cullen… and noticed how the man’s expression had fallen into a knowing smirk and how he was nodding in a way that said he should have known this from the start. All of them, aside from Cole and Cullen, were shocked when the man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, the pale blue aura forming out of smoke a fraction of a second before he materialized.

Justice stepped up beside Varric as he opened his eyes, they flashed all over that same pale blue before settling back into his usual look. He looked at Varric, ignoring everyone else and immediately settled a hand on his shoulder. “Varric.” He took a deep breath as he saw the pain in the man’s face and felt it in his heart.

Varric felt as though those thoughts were going to overthrow him again the moment he saw his friend. He reached around and took his shoulder with the same arm. He couldn’t hide anything from him though. He felt the tremble go through him, it made his voice shake. “She’s in the fade.”

Justice nodded to him. “So that is why I could no longer see her. We will get her back, Varric.” He let out a breath and shook his head, looking around at those who were with them, his gaze settling on the boy who was shrinking away from him, he tilted his head slightly. “Compassion?” He let his hand fall from Varric’s shoulder as he squinted at the boy… trying to see him clearer.

            Solas’ eyes widened as he realized this was another body bound spirit… but not like Cole at all. No… this one was much more powerful… and he incited fear in the back of Solas’ mind. Cole however… stepped forward though bashfully and nodded to him, holding his hat before him. “Justice.” He chanced looking up at him. “You are… different than last we met.”

            Justice softened his features towards the boy and gave him a nod. “As are you… though I cannot say I approve of you relinquishing so much of yourself to become this boy.” He shook his head slightly. “Yet it is not my purpose to pass judgment on your choice.” He turned and pinned Solas with a fierce look, he felt the man prying at his mind and did not care for it at all. He… flexed his power… just a bit… giving him a very clear warning before he looked back to Varric, seeing how he was trying to calm himself. “I must confess Varric… I was already on my way when you called for me.”

Varric looked at Cole and then back to Justice, but didn’t ask questions. Not to be rude… but he didn’t really care right now. He looked up at Justice with a questioning look though. “You knew?”

Justice nodded. “It woke me from my sleep, the moment she was no longer in this world. The tether I have spoke of, the one that links the two of you?” When Varric nodded, Justice continued. “It is very weak but it is not broken.”

Varric closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath, taking comfort beyond all from that. “She lives.”

Justice nodded again. “She does, though I do not know how much longer she will survive there. The fade is a dangerous place under the best of times… and for a mortal to tread there…” He gave Varric a knowing look.

Varric swallowed roughly. “She doesn’t have long then. We should leave immediately.”

Justice shook his head. “In the morning, she will last until then. There are questions that need answering… but first… I hope you are not angry with me… but I did not come alone.”

Varric looked up at him sharply, almost pleadingly. “Justice… you didn’t…” And as if on cue… he heard Carver’s voice.

“Damn those are a lot of freaking stairs!” Carver was panting, out of breath as he held Bjorn on his hip. “Ah! There they are! See, I told you little bear…” Bjorn immediately squealed and started squirming. “Alright, alright!” He set him down and like a rocket, off he went.

Varric’s heart damn near broke again from joy as he took but a few steps and his son was in his arms, he pulled him close and felt his small hands around his neck and holding onto his hair. His son’s bright laughter combined with his cries of _Papa!!!_ These things had Varric smoothing down the boy’s matching dirty blonde hair. “I know _salroka_ … I missed you too. Maker, I missed you so much.” He turned slowly as he had his eyes closed, just holding him tightly. Maker, when did he get so big?!

Robert’s brows had shot straight up when Carver had crested the steps… and at the child. Damned if that boy wasn’t the spitting image of his father… and so young.

Cullen couldn’t help but bark out a chuckle at Carver’s observation, nor could he help but look at the boy fondly… he noticed Marian’s gold eyes there too. He walked past him and offered a hand to Carver, giving a full smile with the boy clapped against his forearm, much as the Templars always did before he released him, a quiet greeting given before he turned and watched.

Dorian was… shocked quite frankly. He would have never pegged the resident Storyteller as a husband… and damn sure would have never thought of him as a father. But there he was, apparently comfortable in his roll. And from the way his son was beside himself, obviously he was a well loved father. But it did make him wonder. “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but… um… Varric… why was your son hanging around a spirit and… this guy?”

Carver gave Dorian a raised brow and a scoff. “This guy?” He looked between Varric and Justice. “ _This guy_ , he says.” He held a hand out to Dorian, smirking when the man took it lightly, he couldn’t help but give him a firm grip and an equally as firm shake. “Carver Hawke. Come to collect my sister and wayward brother in law. Though, from the word around the hold here… looks like it’s going to be a little bit harder than we thought.” He let go of the well groomed man and gave a worried look to Justice.

Varric had just… walked off, sitting down in his usual chair with his son on his lap, smiling down at him as they had their private conversation. Solas followed them, curious as he heard Varric slip into _dwarva…_ and his son doing the same. It was… Solas hadn’t heard the language in… well, a very long time. He noticed his son spoke quite well for his age… and the words seemed to come easier to him in this language, as if it came naturally to the boy simply by his lineage. After all… Tethras was a very old house.

Justice nodded to Carver. “It appears that our lady has been left in the fade.” He looked pointedly at the Inquisitor, his eyes flashing dangerously for his anger towards the one he deemed responsible.

Carver cursed in such a way that even Dorian blushed and Varric barked at him to knock it off. Carver just shook his head and jerked his bomber jacket off, setting it on one of the chairs at the table that Varric was sitting at before he shoved the sleeves of his thermal up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So… when do we head in?”

Justice glanced at Carver before clasping his hands behind his back, his amulet having worked loose, settling over his sweater. “That is a matter best disgusted between the three of us, Carver.” He looked over at Varric and back to him.

Solas’ eyes flared as he spotted the amulet around Justice’s neck… _the amulet of the unbound._ His eyes flicked over to Cole and was taken aback though not surprised as he saw the boy spirit kneeling beside Varric, his hands on the arm of the chair, staring up at Varric’s son with wide doe eyes, completely enthralled, especially as the boy didn’t seem to be bothered by Cole’s presence at all.

Robert cleared his throat and straightened, looking at Justice carefully. “I want to help…” The look that Justice shot at him silenced him from speaking any further though.

“Like you helped leave her there?” Justice’s deep voice boomed out of him, the secondary tone adding to it as his spiritual power instantly flexed beneath his skin, glowing and gyrating as his eyes turned blinding white… while Cole’s undertone was a mere whisper, Justice’s came as an echo that bounced off the stones walls and came between their ears. “Do not attempt to placate me, human. I am Justice, I see into your heart and your mind… you should be grateful that my time spent amongst these people has allowed me the ability to cope with the lack of appeasement to my purpose. For had Marian not shown me another path… you would no longer be breathing the same air as those I deem worthy.”Justice felt his anger and resistance roll out of him, the conflict within him to right the injustice he perceived before him only served to sort of… power him up… further.

Robert and Dorian both flinched, startled by the sudden spectral voice that came from the man before them. Robert swallowed down the fear he felt creeping up his throat… Dorian felt as though he should arm himself and Solas? Well Solas focused intently upon the spirit. Robert opened his mouth to speak… but found no words. What do you even say to something like that? Robert glanced to Carver, noting that he had simply looked at the floor, but he had not flinched nor even looked remotely alarmed.

Varric stood up, his son held up in his arms. “Come on, Justice… that’s enough. We can talk in my quarters.” He felt his heart warm as Bjorn laid his head on his shoulder… it didn’t stop the tremble inside though. He needed Marian back… he needed her safe in his arms too.

Carver nodded and snatched up his jacket, turning back around and coming up beside Justice. Justice had looked in Varric’s direction, the aura beneath his skin fading yet his eyes had not returned to their previous state just yet, nor would they for awhile. “Of course.” His tone had calmed and he turned back towards Robert… seeing him like a bright star, glowing against the sun… and Dorian… an obvious mage for the lyrium that vibrated throughout him. “Gentlemen.” He gave a formal bow before holding his hand out to the side, patting at the air before Carver’s forearm filled it.

“I got you, Jus.” Carver covered his hand with his own and turned him around, knowing he’d need his eyes now, especially with all the damned stairs this place had. He led him away before lifting the man’s hand and settling it on his shoulder comfortably, following Varric through a doorway and off into the hold. Cullen following close behind.


	38. Chapter 38

Solas smirked as Cole almost skipped after them, yet slinked down when he got behind Justice, as a young pup might when coming upon the alpha wolf. He joined the Inquisitor and Dorian as they stared. Dorian broke their collective silence. “Was he… blind this whole time?”

Solas shook his head, gesturing for the two of them to follow _him_ into his research quarters. “No, Dorian… but _justice_ is blind. Thus, when he tapped into his purpose, his strength… his… center… he lost his sight. It is quite amazing to see him though. Spirits of Justice are extremely rare in this world, they are so easily corrupted into Vengeance. Thus to see one still remaining true to their original purpose… a very rare thing indeed.”

Robert followed, feeling his relief wash over him now that he was apart from the spirit. Dorian though seemed exhilarated. Robert sighed heavily though. “Well, as _amazing_ as that is… I don’t think he’s going to let us help them.”

Solas shook his head at the Inquisitor. “No, it does not appear so. Which is, understandable. While your leaving Hawke in the fade was a mistake, an accident born of circumstance, it was still an action that carries with it a justifiable punishment. To resist his purpose and not be twisted into Vengeance, he has shown extraordinary resilience and control. It would be kindest if you would not put yourself in his presence again.”

Dorian was toying with the edges of his mustache as he was thinking. “What about that man though? Carver was it? He seemed very… close… with the spirit.” When Robert shot him a look, Dorian raised his hands innocently. “What? He did. He called him a nickname, and the overall tone was… different. If I didn’t know any better, I would say they were a couple.”

Solas scoffed at him. “That is preposterous. A spirit of Justice could not even understand a relationship such as that. The complex emotions that come along with it? They are beyond his scope of comprehension.”

Dorian raised a finger at Solas. “Yet… he came when Varric called, simply because he _cares_ about Hawke. All of this has been about her… and Varric. He cares deeply for them. He’s been watching over their child. He is playing a role that steps _outside_ of the attribute by which he is called.”

Solas shook his head at the man. “It is too easy to force human emotions upon a spirit. For whatever reason, this spirit has chosen to remain with them. Perhaps he feels that it is somehow respecting his true purpose.”

Robert had to cut in. “But what of Cole? He is learning, changing, and growing yet he is not becoming corrupt.”

Solas glanced at the Inquisitor. “Cole is unique. He has not possessed a body, that makes his case different. Justice has, that body belonged to a man once. I am not entirely sure how he accomplished this… but there is only the spirit within it now.”

Dorian took a deep breath. “All of that aside… Varric… a husband… and a father… who knew, right? Just goes to show you that you really can’t tell about people.” He gave the two of them a bit of a bow before excusing himself and heading down to Varric’s quarters… to offer assistance of course, and because he was nosey.

Robert nodded, he had to agree. He felt each one of Varric’s words earlier like a punch to the gut… and it would have made a difference. It shouldn’t have… but it would have. He just sighed and bid Solas farewell… and went to find the Seeker, knowing that she’d need a friendly shoulder right now.

Varric set Bjorn down once he opened the door to his quarters, feeling oddly whole yet not as he watched the boy. His heart wilting when the boy found Marian’s pack and pulled out one of her shirts, sitting down with a hitch and holding it to his face, his small eyes closed as he snuggled against it. His _dwarva_ coming forth. _Where is Ama?_ Varric frowned as he walked over and picked him and the shirt up. “She’s lost, little bear… but Uncle Jus and I… we’re going to go find her and bring her back to you.” He set him on the bed and smoothed his hair down as the boy curled up on Marian’s side… his face pressing into her pillow as he rolled around with a grin. _Smells like Ama!_ He looked over his shoulder as Carver led Justice in. Varric sat down roughly on the bedside chair, his head in his hands as he took a deep yet shallow breath. He just didn’t feel right. Cullen and Cole came in next… his quarters becoming cramped very quickly.

Carver smirked at all the people that suddenly filled the small space as he started to close the door without even looking only to feel resistance… he glanced through the crack and sighed heavily, seeing the well groomed man there… “What’s the password?” He couldn’t help it.

Dorian raised a brow at the man’s odd request, but he didn’t miss the humor in his simple blue eyes. “The black crow flies at dawn?”

Carver smirked, rolled his eyes but opened the door and let the man in, shutting it behind him. Damn, there were… a lot of people in here now, he worked his way through them and made his way back over to Justice, setting his coat over a chair.

Justice started working his own coat off. His vision was starting to return… yet it was still blurry. He patted the air until he felt what he supposed was the back of a chair and draped his coat over it, feeling Carver’s hand cover his at the last moment to secure the leather, ensuring that it did not fall to the floor.

Cullen leaned against the wall beside the hearth and raised a brow at Dorian’s appearance. “Well, it looks as though all the conspirators have arrived.” He looked over at Varric with a concerned look. But Cole caught his attention as he climbed up onto the bed and sat against the wall… the boy climbing into his lap as they started to play a quiet game that involved counting fingers. He looked over at Justice, noting his changed appearance… he really did look nothing like Anders now. “So… what’s the plan?”

Justice glanced in Cullen’s direction and frowned slightly, he could see the man’s physical pain from his lyrium withdrawals. “First… I need to know _exactly_ where she was last seen in the fade.”

Dorian still stood in front of the closed door. “We were all fighting a particularly nasty looking creature that the Nightmare Demon had planned to send through the rift, a rift that was in the center of Adamant Fortress. She was…” Dorian shook his head and took a deep breath. “She was _right_ behind us… I don’t know what happened.”

Varric’s expression went pained as he clawed at his scalp, he swallowed roughly but forced himself to take a deep breath, his right thumb moving his ring around his finger, slowly spinning it in place. Carver cursed under his breath and crossed his arms over his chest, taking an aggressive stance. Justice’s expression just hardened. “It is a start.” He brought his hands together before his chest, one fist in into the other palm as he fidgeted slightly, knowing well that Carver wasn’t going to like what he had to say next. “We will go there. Varric and I will enter the fade, find her… and bring her back with us.” _And here we go…_

Right on cue, Carver’s spine straightened and he looked at Justice suddenly. “What? Oh hell no…”

Justice sighed heavily. “Carver…”

Carver shook his head firmly. “The hell you’re leaving me behind. She’s _my_ sister, Justice. I’m fucking going.”

Justice shook his head slowly. “The fade is a dangerous place, Carver… And you have no experience in dealing with it.”

Carver had that stubborn look on his face as he gave him a shrug. “I don’t give a fuck. I’m still going. You are not about to shut me out of this.”

Justice was growing increasingly frustrated with this argument. “Someone must stay behind and look after Bjorn. I need Varric with me, his connection with her is how we will locate her in the fade.” Justice stressed his words, his hands gripping themselves in front of him.

Carver shook his head as he rolled his lips. “She’s my fucking sister! We share the same blood, if anything, that binds us more! I’d be like a fucking beacon in there!”

Justice felt the man’s hurt, the sting at the idea of being left behind… again. But it didn’t stop his own temper from flaring, responding in kind to Carver’s. His deep voice boomed, his hands falling to his side as fists formed. “I will not risk you!”

Dorian’s brows went high at that… _not possible, my ass_ , he thought. He’d been witnessing the argument, the back and forth. He glanced at Cullen, who held the same sort of _um…_ expression as he did.

Carver didn’t miss a beat at all. “And I’m supposed to just be okay with you traipsing on into the fade?! We don’t know what it’s going to do to you to go back there! What if you get turned around in there? Who’s gonna protect you!”

Justice took a deep breath, stilling himself as he took hold of the man’s face, looking at him… his vision an odd blend of this body’s and his spiritual self, seeing both of Carver’s. “That is why I need _you_ here. My connection to you will guide me back.” His voice was pleading, he was trying to make him understand. “Blood is not strong enough for the fade.” He stressed as he let his hands settle on the man’s shoulders. “It has to be more. Varric’s love will guide us to her… and mine for you… will guide us back.”

Dorian’s eyes widened as he covered his mouth, glancing down discretely. His mind was reeling with the implications of what he had just heard. Not only was he _right_ but… he was more than right. Not only were these two a couple… but apparently this spirit, this true to his purpose spirit of Justice… _loved_ a mortal. It was like a story leapt right off the pages of a book!

Cullen blinked a few times before glancing over at Varric… but he saw no surprise there, only a knowing smirk form. Cullen looked back at the two men and took in a deep breath, letting it flow out of him before he just shook his head and looked at the ground beneath his feet. Damn, was this the day for revelations or what? They all appeared to be living with a secret… he couldn’t help but think of his own, and the thoughts that plagued him still. Maker’s breath… but he did miss her. He felt the sadness prick at his heart, shaking his head he quickly thought of something else.

Carver felt the fight just… flow right out of him, dammit. He sighed and gave Justice a look of _damn you_. He frowned and shook his head slowly, wrapping his arms around the man’s torso and pulling him in for an embrace. “Fine. You win.” He ground out before releasing him.

Dorian cleared his throat. “That’s all well and good but how do you intend to actually enter the fade?”

Justice had embraced him firmly but let him go, smirking at Carver’s begrudging submission. His attention was drawn by the elegant Mage, he gave a bit of a shrug. “I can enter any time I wish.” He made a sort of frustrated expression when Dorian just blinked at him. “To enter the fade, a spirit need only two things. One… a heading, knowing where they are going… and magic. Spirits draw from the fade, so magic is of no concern. Most spirits know well where they are going. It is those spirits who have lost their way that cannot return. This body has quite a bit of magic in it all on its own… entering the fade with it…” He gave a bit of a mouth shrug. “Would be a simple matter.”

Cullen spoke up then. “But… would it be like a rift?”

Justice shook his head at the man. “No… rifts are tears in the fade, they are born of violence. Think of this way… every spirit has a key… and there are doors all around you. I unlock a door, we go in… but I must leave it open behind me… for if I close it? I will have no way of knowing where that door is. Even with that door open, I will still need a beacon of my own.” He glanced at Carver before looking back at the Commander. “The fade is infinite, massive… there is no directionality there. No sense of how far you’ve traveled… nor which way you have gone. It is ever changing… so there are no landmarks to guide you by.”

Cullen nodded, taking another deep breath. The fade sounded like a terrible place. “But if the door is left open… won’t demons find it?”

Justice nodded. “That is a very real possibility. Which is why I will need someone there to guard it.”

Carver smirked. “My time… to shine.” He said in a silly accent, pointing to himself with his thumbs.

Justice smirked. “But what of Bjorn?”

Just then… Cole spoke up. “I can care for him.” He hadn’t looked up from the boy with the words. “He has the same song inside, just like Varric. It is beautiful!”

Varric glanced over at them, having been quietly listening this entire time. He thought about it for a moment… looking at Cole intently before glancing at Justice and Carver. “It wouldn’t take long, would it?”

Justice gave him an unknowing shrug. “I cannot say. But Bjorn would be safe with Compassion. He has not lost all of himself yet.”

Cole shied away from Justice’s observation but was still so captivated by the small boy who was explaining to him the way the river cut through the valley of his home… in _dwarva_ of course… and naturally, Cole understood him just fine. “I will keep him safe. He is scared and worried but doesn’t know why. He doesn’t understand where Ama is… or why Papa is sad. But he is happy to be with him. He trusts completely. He has known only love and laughter. His soul is pure and new, having never known this world. He is tied to the stone by an ancient legacy yet magic flows in his veins, wanting to soar high above the mountains.”

Varric smiled softly at Cole’s words, he didn’t need to hear them though. He knew his son. He reached and smoothed down some of the boy’s unruly hair. “He’ll stay with Cole then.”

Cullen cleared his throat. “I will accompany you.” He looked at Varric pointedly. They all looked at him sharply. “You’ll need my sword in there… and I have a debt to repay.” He dipped his head slightly.

Varric looked confused for a moment. “Cullen, you owe us nothing.”

Cullen gave the dwarf a sort of smirk. “But I owe Hawke and it is long overdue that I settle that debt.”

Dorian let out an exaggerated sigh. “And I suppose you’ll need another mage.” He huffed on his nails, brushing them on his shirt. “After all, can’t expect the dog lord here to fight demons alone.”

Carver raised a brow at the hoity man. “Pfft… you just want in on the glory.” He pivoted slightly and looked around the room. “It’s settled then. We’ll leave in the morning.”

Justice nodded, glancing around at them all before looking at Dorian. “Between the two of us, we can get them all there.”

Dorian raised a brow. “What… you mean fade step the whole group?”

Justice smirked. “Too much for you?”

Dorian scoffed. “Of course not. I just… never heard of such a thing.”

Carver barked out a bit of a laugh, sliding an arm around Justice and tugging him near. “Stick around then… you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Even Cullen couldn’t help but chuckle, he looked over at Varric and gave a subtle bow. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out and headed down to the small Temple… he needed to pray… set a few things straight… in case he didn’t return.

Dorian rolled his eyes and likewise excused himself… though when he walked through Solas’ research office he couldn’t help but shoot a comment at him. “So… Justice and Carver… _quite_ the adorable couple, you really should see them together.” He didn’t even glance over his shoulder for a reaction, he just kept on going up to his alcove to do some reading before retiring for the night, he was pretty sure they were going to be leaving at an insanely early hour.

Cole reluctantly withdrew from Bjorn as Varric climbed onto the bed, the boy joyfully falling onto his father’s chest. As Cole passed Justice though, he slunk down and away from him. He couldn’t help it… the spirit was powerful. “Good night… Justice.”

Justice glanced down at Cole, watching him go. “Rest well, Compassion.” He looked back at Carver with a _what?_ But he slid the lock home before looking over at Varric.

Varric sighed heavily as Bjorn laid out on his chest, quickly getting comfortable. He settled a hand on the boy’s back and felt the exhaustion from the day… the emotional drain that he went through. _I’m coming for you, sweet heart… don’t worry._ He sent up the silent prayer as he closed his eyes, smirking slightly when he felt his boots being tugged off of him. He felt himself being nudged on the side and he wiggled until he was against the wall, the mattress dipping, he knew it was Justice beside him… and then it dipped further… and there was Carver, the blanket fluttering out over them. Varric suspected it was Justice’s hand in his hair that caused him to fall into a deep sleep.

And Varric would be right, Justice had his arm thrown over his head and his fingers in Varric’s hair, just enough to send the dwarf into a gentle sleep. It wasn’t magic… it was his spectral influence. He sighed heavily, turning his face towards Carver when he felt the man roll over and wrap around him, that being done, he held him close, a kiss given to his brow. Tomorrow… frightened him. He truly didn’t know what going into the fade would do to him… if it would erase everything that he was… or if it would undo him completely… if he would even remember them… or if he would even want to come back. But he had to try, the door being left open would at least allow Varric and Marian to escape… and if Cullen was there? He could lead them out, should he fail.

Carver felt Justice’s worry… his own adding to it. He held tight to him… he couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. He worried over his sister… knowing that they had to get her back. But he trusted in his lover… he could get her back. He knew how odd it must seem to Dorian and Cullen, hell maybe even Varric… here he was, a human… just a man… obviously in a romantic relationship with this powerful spirit, this spirit that embodied such an aggressive attribute. But Carver knew that he could be kind, gentle, tender, passionate, and loving… all these things were a part of him as well. He wasn’t _just_ justice. He reached up and settled his hand on Justice’s amulet, knowing well that even though Justice was all of those things and more… this simple amulet was all that stood between him and enslavement by the enemy, for he was still a spirit. He had never given up a single piece of that. He frowned deeply, nuzzled against his chest and finally felt himself drift off to sleep.

Justice’s sleep came later… after he listened to them all breathe around him. He had to succeed tomorrow. Failure was not an option. For his family. For his love. His friends. The people he cared most about. Those he held above all others.


	39. Chapter 39

_Marian had her back against the spiked rock, eyes wide as she listened… hyperaware of every single sound as she shook, her staff held tightly in her grip. For days she’d been fighting them off… though she’d learned quickly that if she hid… and was still, and quiet… she could find moments of peace… she couldn’t even allow herself to long for home, to miss Bjorn… or Varric... it drew them to her like moths to a flame. But her adrenaline had yet to let up. She’d been on the move since that huge fucking demon… that thing was hell to kill. She still didn’t know how she survived it. Probably only because it was already wounded so much. She had been injured… she knew that. But the adrenaline pumping into her didn’t let her feel the pain, which was probably a good thing. She was pretty sure it was bad… really bad. But she ignored it and was happy to do so. Each time she thought she saw a fade rift nearby and made a break for it, she realized that it was much further than she originally thought… it ended up looking as though it was forever away, she never got any closer to them. She panted as she crouched in the rocky corner. What she wouldn’t give for a desire demon right about now… if only to have some time to rest before she denied the creature. But damned if there wasn’t one around! She had cursed Inquisitor Fucktruck plenty when she’d first got left behind but she didn’t blame him, not really… it was insane. That big ass demon, creepy fucking eyes… and then the whole horde that fell onto them… hell, she didn’t even realize she’d been left for quite awhile. She had no idea how long she’d been there alone. Her stomach gnawed at her and she ran her tongue over her lips, which did nothing… she reached down and jerked another button off her coat and popped it in her mouth, working it around to get the saliva going, closing her eyes with relief for the moisture, even though she was plenty parched, still… it helped. She had a water skin on her belt, she’d found it on Clarel’s body… the unlucky soul that apparently fell through along with them in Adamant, she didn’t make it but thank the Maker for her water. Still, she didn’t dare allow herself more than a single swallow once every day… well… what she supposed was a day. She had no way of knowing here, she could only go off of her internal clock. Whenever she grew tired, that natural pull to sleep and not from exhaustion… she knew it was nighttime back home… probably around ten… which was when she usually went to bed. When she felt wide awake, she knew the sun was just starting to come up over the mountains… she went by that, using muck to make hash marks on her bare arm, the leather of her coat having been torn off by a particularly nasty demon that she had never even seen before… her sleeve she had torn to stuff under her vest… in an attempt to bandage a wound. She glanced down at the marks… there were two sets of five there. Fuck. She was hungry… she felt panic starting to claw at her but she shook her head sharply. No, you will not give in. You will not give up. Keep moving. She’d passed out twice since she’d been here, her body failing her… each time she’d been jarred awake by the shrieking sounds of Despair demons. Where the hell were the fucking spirits? Weren’t they supposed to be like… all over the damn place?!_


End file.
